Rocket to the Moon
by Sandra Strickland
Summary: Mueller Enterprises headquarters weren't that different from any other headquarters he'd seen before. People seemingly working. A bunch of cubicles and desks in the center. Private offices along the walls. Their trademark dark red color was present but only in few details here and there
1. Bitter Coffee

**Rocket To The Moon**

**Chapter 1**

**Bitter Coffee**

* * *

_Teaser_

* * *

. . .

He stepped into the coffee shop and took a place behind the one person in the line. He'd taken a quick break from his workday and enjoyed the two blocks peaceful saunter. It had been a long day; he was in dire need of a few minutes to himself and took advantage that nobody was in the waiting room when the last person left his office. He did what he had wanted to do all day. Escape… if only for some minutes. He smiled to himself after having enjoyed the tender sun of the early spring in NY City in his way here.

"What can I do for you today, sir?" the boy in the cash register asked him when it was his turn.

"I want a caramel macchiato, please… venti."

"Regular milk, one or two percent?"

"Two percent," he paused as the kid typed his order "To go"

"Name?"

"Arnold."

After paying and receiving his change, Arnold went to sit to an empty table to the left while his order was prepared. He drew out his cellphone to take a quick check to the last Facebook notifications and messages.

'_I'm gonna be late again, love' _was his girlfriend message. Claire had also uploaded several photos of the group of kids they were taking care in the community center she volunteered. They were all hugs and smiles. It seemed that the fund to get glasses to those who couldn't afford them was a success. The blond boy smiled as he kept going through the rest of the pictures.

"_Arnold!"_ he left his chair when the barista called his name, then went to the pick up a napkin and a cup holder before walking to the exit. There were several people in the line now; blocking the way out. Arnold gripped securely the coffee in his hand seeing that he was going to be forced to make his way through the crowd.

"Excuse me"

People in front of him moved aside, he thanked them. He was about to reach the exit when someone touched his arm.

"Hey Arnold!"

Arnold turned around. He knew that voice.

"Hey Matt!" Arnold smiled. "Nice to see you. How are you doing?" Matt was a coworker from his previous job.

Matt smiled back shaking his hand.

"Nice to see you too, Arnold. What the hell are you doing around here?"

"I work here, just around the corner," Arnold pointed to the right, where his office was located.

"Good," Matt turned around, suddenly looking uncomfortable. Arnold guessed what all that was about. Rumors. All what was said when he left the firm. It was good to see Matt looking uncomfortable because he didn't want to talk about it, either. "It's true that you work at the community center?"

Shit. Arnold grunted inwardly; he took an intake before speak.

"No, in fact I work at Legal Bureau. It's a … center… supported by several companies to provide services to the community"

"So it's not pro bono? I mean, you work for an actual company?"

"Just like you…" Arnold answered sharply. "How's Anderson Johnson Bailey & Partners doing by the way?"

"Fine, like always."

"How's everybody in there?" he took one more step reaching the sidewalk, hoping Matt remained behind, but the guy followed him.

"Happy with our jobs, I guess…"

"I am glad to hear that" so it was only him '_who couldn't stand to be there one more day'_? he thought as he saw his ex-partner hesitating. He decided to speak, before the awkward silence surrounded them. He opened his mouth to say goodbye when other question popped in his mind and went to his lips before he could stop it. "What are you doing here? I mean, the finnancial district is anything but near."

"We came to see a client…" he cleared his throat "… facilities…"

"Really?" Arnold took a sip of his coffee. It was hot. He took a moment before he could speak again "That's great…"

"_Arnold!_" the voice of a girl almost made him cringe. "What a coincidence!"

"Hi, Daphne," Arnold forced a smile when a blonde girl appeared in front of him.

"Did you come to the job interview too? How did you know?" she lowered her voice "I mean, they are not making it public. We were called in by…"

"Daphne!" Matt let out a low grunt. Arnold hid a smile. So, there were problems in that particular side of paradise called Anderson Johnson Bailey & Partners, huh?

"Arnold works just around the corner" Matt spoke in a rush, obviously wanting to stop the girl from speak further.

"Oh,"

"Job interview?" Arnold raised a brow. He wasn't going to let this one go. Matt exhaled resignedly.

"Oh, geez!" the girl recovered quickly from her slip, looking Arnold up and down and then a pitiful expression got perched in her face,. "We heard you were working doing voluntary service after you left… that you couldn't find at job"

"That's what they say?" Arnold frowned. He supposed they were saying something like this already, but hearing it from her lips was a low blow.

"Arnold has a job," Matt informed her taking one of the coffees from the girl's hands.

"Oh, I am happy to hear that. It'd be a shame if you didn't. Everybody always said you had a brilliant future; being the first in your class and with all those recommendations…"

'_Sure_', Arnold nodded looking around. What they really wanted was surely to corroborate he was unemployed, or working without a paycheck. He let out a breath. Well, it was almost as if it was no paycheck at all actually, but he never was going to say it aloud, not to them anyway. Well, let's get over with this change of subject.

"And are you going to tell me where the interview was?" He asked with a small smile, as if letting them know he was not match for any of them, or for anyone else in the world. He was just a well-intended boy that still followed utopic dreams after all. He saw them hesitating. He knew Daphne hardly could keep things to herself. That was he was surprised she still worked for a firm that valued the secrecy of their corporative clients as the most precious thing in the world; far over basic human rights and … "Well well well… you two are getting me worried with all this furtiveness. We all know there are always firms and companies looking for the kind of services we offer. Last week GE was looking for a lawyer versed in logistics; and this week I heard Sim…" he paused for effect "… a couple more of… open offers." His forehead creased and his voice dropped "I am not looking myself for a job, by the way. I am happy where I am. But you may be interested. Sorry if I…"

"Citibank," Matt said.

"Mueller," Daphne let out. Matt eyes admonished her.

"What I heard is Metropolitan Life and Simon & Simon Estates, but yours sound better," Arnold showed a slight interest. "Though I didn't know those two have their recruiting offices around here."

"Of course they don't, you silly!" Daphne laughed "They are keeping it low so they don't use their headquarters. Which is a shame because I've heard their…"

"And how did you know, then?" he asked forcing a goofy smile to his face.

Daphne was about to answer when Matt cut in.

"It's secret. It wouldn't one anymore be if we tell you, right?"

"Fair," Arnold snorted "Well, it was nice to see you again guys" he said turning right.

"Oh, Arnold…" the girl look tuned despondent "We should meet again."

"Anytime; just give me a call." Arnold smirked "I work just around the corner, at 106th St. and Madison. We could go to have lunch or something."

The girl wrikled her nose.

"I get dizzy beyond the 87th"

"I guess she meant to have dinner or something," Matt spoke before Arnold got the chance to remark that she looked perfectly healthy now and she was far beyond the dizzy point. "It'd be nice to see Claire again; listening to her rant against transnational companies and what not. She's so funny."

Arnold felt that weight in his chest again.

"Yeah, it'd be nice. Give me a call anytime you feel like it and we fix it." He waved his hand and turned around.

When they were out of earshot he puffed. Claire wasn't there to entertain a couple of stupid assholes who couldn't keep a secret for the life of them. And to think what they thought of them, himself and Claire, as if they a couple happy-go-lucky of over idealistic, multinational corporations-haters and poor-people-lover jerks. He grunted. This awkward feeling falling over him again. Things weren't going the way he expected, he knew it. At least he finally knew it what was wrong with him. He was thirty now. Maybe he could use this night that Claire would be late to lie down and think about the future; about the rest of his life. Arnold took a sip of his caramel macchiato and was surprised to find that when the hot liquid touched his mouth it tasted bitter.

. . .

* * *

**Well, so here it is. It was supposed to be a teaser but it ended being chapter one. If it suffers any modification I'll let you know next chapter which will be here in July. What else can I say in advance? It'd be a long story but not as long as RL. This fic sets Hillwood in the State of Washington, so we won't see much of the rest of the gang because the action in this story happens in NY City. Well, I think that's all, Folks. See you soon.**

**I don't own Hey Arnold or any TM mentioned in here.**

**June 16, 2014.**


	2. I Need to Lie Down

**Hi everybody, as I promised is July and I am back. I hope to keep updating two or three chapters per month, but this doesn't mean necessarily I'll post every ten, fifteen days. If I delay I want all you know it's not because I forgot, but because some chapters won't be easy and will need more time.**

**Now, a little background since is not place to clear it up in the chapter. As most of you already realized, Arnold is a commercial/corporate lawyer in here. The gang won't be seen around and this story will have a bunch of OC, to whom I hope you get to know before the real action starts.**

**Now on with the reading  
**

* * *

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Two**

**I Need to Lie Down**

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.

Arnold hurried his steps to reach the opposite sidewalk when the green light started to blink. On a rainy, snowy day he'd take the bus to reach his apartment, but the rest of the times he used to walk. It was only a 20 minutes' walk after all, and besides, tonight he wanted to buy a cable to have his home theater system finally mounted. There were several electronics stores on 116th street. He adjusted the lapels of his coat to keep the cold outside as he went on.

The uncomfortable feeling that the encounter with his friends left in him hadn't totally washed away. To see how eager they seemed to know everything about him and his new job, to confirm the suppositions they have still itched him. Suppositions that a well bunch of people at AJB & P were having, he knew it; he still had some real friends in there. Why people cared about this so much he'd never know. Maybe it was just the way people were. What he disliked was being object of examination only because he got tired of working for a firm that extolled mercantilism far over all the other 'Values' that were carved at the entrance of their offices, along its Mission and Vision, and he'd said it aloud. Now he was the 'idealist young lawyer', the 'unconventional', the 'strange', 'the outcast'. Arnold puffed as he pushed open the door of the first electronic store in the street.

. .

Minutes later the blond young man grunted after leaving the third store. What was it? No one has a simple 18 ft. long speaker cable? Maybe he needed to go to a supermarket. It was probably easier to find what he wanted in there. He held his breathe as he entered into the fourth shop in a row. Without answering the conventional greeting of the clerk, he spat to him what he was looking for. The kid asked for a minute as he walked up to farthest corner of the store and got lost in there.

Arnold turned around looking without seeing the glass counters and walls filled with merchandise as he let out some steam. After a while, he blinked; seemed that this store was well supplied. With his luck surely they have anything _but_ the cable he was looking for, he thought with sullenness. He extended his hand to take a No More Nails tube, and then a plastic staples small pack. If it was the case … which one would do better?

"Here, sir" the boy reached his side and showed him several products, thin cables, for real; one of them was even longer than what he needed. Arnold raised his brow and smirked to himself, choosing the cream colored cable that matched his bedroom walls; then asked for two; they were two speakers after all. Deciding he didn't want to wait for the adhesive to dry, he took the staples package and reached the kid by the cash register reaching for his wallet in the back pocket.

After extending a twenty dollars note he waited for the change; they weren't even expensive; that what upset him the most; if they were he'd understand to some extent the deficient stocking of the former stores. While waiting for the receipt to be print, he raised the sight to the strangely stock-free wall behind the counter and blinked twice. Who would have thought? He knew very well the logo imprinted in that wall. Not only because he had seen it in a daily basis back in Hillwood when he was a kid, but because he knew the brand had reached nationwide expansion nowadays. The emblem had changed through the years. It was still a brown and green circle that read 'Big Bob Stores' but now had a stylized imperial crown in the center and a single bold, red, capital **'M'** letter in the back.

. . .

Arnold left the store and walked further north. Two blocks north and two more to the left. For a while his mind went blank, the prior awkward mood abandoned him. A strange peace lingered over him instead, something like nostalgia, for times long gone. For the old neighborhood, for his old friends and his clique; for a simpler and easier life….

His feet carried him to his street in automatic while his mind was still void of thoughts. He stopped at the corner to order a pizza, asking them to send it up when it were ready, all the while moving like an automat again. Then reached home and climbed up the few steps to his entrance, took off his coat, turned on the lights. The odd numbness still filled him as he went right to the bedroom he shared with Claire. It was really a strange feeling, he could almost smell it…

The smell of the boarding house; smell of old, worn wood; of the times when his grandparents were still around; the smell of the basement. It brought a lot of memories to his mind. He remembered his soft bed and the red couch when his best friend spent the night in there. He reminisced the hallways of PS 118, its playground; the courts where they used to play football in high school. Remembered when all what love meant was to get a date for the upcoming dance; then to get lucky. When he still could let himself to be idealistic. 'Idealistic', he scoffed to himself. 'Idealism'. The word collided against him, bringing him back to the uncomfortable mood. He used to hold the word like a banner. It was pathetic. The word itself had an awful definition to him now. It's was the philosophy of the 'pretty ideas', of the 'great ideals'… of the 'good intentions' that are never carried out.

. . . .

Reminders of his previous concept of idealism followed him as he plugged in the cable and threw it up to the corner of the wall and then along the line of the ceiling. He nailed a staple every few inches. The nostalgia for the past had also left him without full awareness. The awkwardness settled again. A quick view of his life and of the decisions he took and got him right here this moment clouded his mind. The realization of his own mistakes. He raised his sight to look at his work. Yes, eighteen feet were perfect. He plugged the adaptor of the other end of the cable into the speaker that was already hanging from the rear wall and hide the reminder inches of cable behind it. Quickly he took the three steps _pink_ ladder and placed it by the opposite wall. It was easy, but he wanted to get the job done before the pizza arrived.

Fifteen minutes later he was taking the ladder back to the corner where it belonged, the kitchen corner, right behind the door; when there was a knock in the door. His mind had uneasily traveled through the last years of his life. After graduating he left the US to go backpacking and know the world. He made some voluntary work at the same time. There were always places where a pair of hands was required, to build houses, to help towns raise again after suffering natural disasters, trying to help people to go through their bad time. It'd been pleasant despite its sordidness somewhat. It had been satisfying. Then he had to come back to America because he needed to get a real job. His savings weren't everlasting. The income coming up from the boarding house couldn't afford the lifestyle he dreamed to himself, to the rest of his life. It has to start sometime, and his twenty-four almost twenty-five it seemed the right time.

. . . . .

He got hired immediately by a firm specialized in Patrimonial Planning, not his favorite field but it was a good start. Then Anderson Johnson Bailey & Partners came in with his canny approach and impeccable offices in the elegant Financial District. Almost immediately he fell into the good graces of one of the associates and his career winded up, everyone said it. For three years he was the biggest promise of the firm until they sent him to Bankruptcies and Contests. Bankruptcies and Contests wasn't his field, not at all. Dealing with people who was 'losing' everything wasn't his thing. It was hard to be not only a witness of all the things that happened there, but to play a part, the devil's part. The promising career that had been labeled as to be in a rocket to the moon went quickly downward. He decided to renounce before it all crashed miserably.

It was all. He said he had had enough and refused to take back his previous post. He said there had to be a place where his idealism was appreciated. Claire gave him all her support. Then he went right to look for a place where 'to help people' were acceptable, and he found it almost without effort. And he started to help people as it was his wish. But then he learned that helping people wasn't exactly what he thought. It wasn't the same thing to help people who had nothing, who had lost everything, than to help people whose circumstances and decisions have gotten there in first place. Okay, he helped people to legalize their properties. He also counseled people to get their business in form; helped them to understand their rights as American citizens and their obligations. But also realized that most of people who went looking for advice never followed the counsels and left everything right the way they were; their situation didn't change at all. And he realized that -as much he wanted to be blind to that,- laziness and resistance to change were the more frequent causes of their situation. He simply couldn't understand it. When he first accepted this job he thought helping people would be more satisfactory...

Well, it wasn't.

Then, after seeing this situation repeated itself he grew more and more disappointed with his job. And that without taking in consideration that along with his disappointment, his own finances were experiencing problems. His actual incomes didn't match his expenses. Not that he was a big spender. He had savings that'd keep him going still for months, Anderson's paid was good, but it wasn't the same thing. This situation shouldn't be kept any longer. He needed to find a new, real job. The thought had been in his head for the last couple of weeks but hadn't set down yet. But now he was here. Finally getting some time to himself, to think about future, to make plans. Time to meditate. He was lying on his bed, after having dinner, listening to soft music, jazz, had been long time without listening it. With no interruption due to Claire chat, to be watching TV, or because they were receiving late visits.

. . . . . .

He welcomed this time, he really did. He finally got to think deeply; get to resolutions. Maybe this was not what he wanted anymore. Maybe he wouldn't find the ideal job ever. Maybe the ideal job didn't exist and that had to be accepted, but he needed to start again; to find a new job, to make savings again, to build some wealth; to start living his future, the rest of his life.

And this was the other thing that have been hovering over his head; this one even longer than an unsatisfactory job.

His future; his life; to start a family…

Thinking on that he couldn't help but feel the sting of jealousy. Something that pinched his insides and made him feel bad. And he felt worse because he was actually happy for his friend. Gerald has a six months old baby girl and he was ecstatic. Every single day he posted a new photo of the little cherub; from her neat pink room to her flamboyant stroller; from her dark curly hair to her little perfect toenails. The baby was an angel, and Phoebe was for sure an excellent mother

That was what had him uncomfortable. Gerald had a perfect family. He had been married for almost four years and he had nothing. Not that he complained, it was his decision after all to be single. He had been engaged once to his college sweetheart but things didn't work and they broke it up. That was the closest he had been to marriage, but their relation didn't survived his traveling. It had been the only time he felt the need to formalize, but now that he thought about that maybe it was because he was too young and his feelings for the sweet girl were the purest he ever felt. Now he knew it wasn't real love; it was just that he wanted to feel tied to someone. The loss of his grandparents, his only real family, was still recent.

After Amy left he had gone through a bunch of dates that led him to nothing, until he met Victoria. Victoria was the girl that accompanied him to Gerald's wedding; they had been dating for about a year. Everybody pointed back then that she was his perfect match; that he was next in the line to walk down the aisle to the altar and he almost believe it for a while, until things with her also led to nowhere and they broke up before their second anniversary. Then Claire came up.

The thing was that even when Claire had been his girlfriend for almost three years, he hadn't proposed yet. Not that he had complaints about her. Claire was perfect almost in every sense. Sex was good. They had fun together. She was kind and compassionate about the same things he was; she was beautiful and she was a good girl. She'd made a terrific mother one day.

But he always thought that the decision to belong to somebody came with a necessity, with a passion, and he hadn't felt that passion yet. Was he selfish? Was he unfair? Was he being too idealist? Too naïve?

. . . . . . .

He didn't have anything to compare. Before he asked Gerald he already knew it wouldn't be fair. Gerald and Phoebe knew each other when they were kids, but became a couple until they ended up in the same town for college. She went to Premed at Brown, he was making Communication at Rhode Island State. Then they broke up three years later when Phoebe's medical school required all of her attention. But once she got back to Seattle to become a specialist in radiology they fell into each other arms like the most natural thing in the world; almost as if the years separated hadn't existed. So Gerald's case wasn't the appropriate to make a comparison. When he asked him how he decided to propose he simply answered he always knew he'd end up with her.

Arnold never felt that. Well, maybe only when he was in sixth grade and Lila finally accepted to go out with him. Maybe those two weeks they shared together he dreamed that she was the girl of his life. But Lila thought otherwise and dumped him. She was twelve and she already knew what she wanted, and it was not him.

But coming back to him again, was it real that he never felt that need? Was it only a dream that'd never become true? To feel like you're swept off your feet? To become obsessed about someone? To think about her all day long? He felt that way about Claire… long ago, when he met her, when he first started to date her. He felt that way even when he asked her to move in with him, after her roommate was relocated. It was the most natural thing to do after all. With Claire everything was always calm, natural. Maybe it was the pass of the time what made things look grey.

Thinking and thinking got him to realize he needed to make changes. Some people used to say that you yourself are who put things in motion. Maybe if he proposed it'd stir their relation and they reach that point; to get their world in movement. Thirty years was a good age to get married, to start a family after all. Gerald's girl would be twenty when he'd be fifty. And him?

Unconsciously he knew he needed some time alone to reach this point. To have an inside view of himself, to have this heart to heart with the other Arnold Shortman, the one who still have some optimism inside him. And finally to get to conclusions and to make plans. Tonight was a perfect night. Outside it was cold and frantic. It was getting late and Claire would be here any minute now.

Alright, conclusions: He breathed deeply. He needed to make changes. Maybe it was time to formalize his relation with Claire; to start to think about the future, a family, kids, a home. Of course it wouldn't happen right now; but it had to be a term, a time limit. Two months… three? Coming June he should to make a decision. He had three months to think pros and cons and not more vacillations. If nothing major comes, next June he'd be proposing.

And secondly, he needed to get a job, a satisfactory job if not the perfect job. He breathed again. _What would make the perfect job?_ Cunning Arnold inside his skull asked as he left the bed and walked to the main room to be sure if he hadn't left any mess; picked up the trash and closed the window. He replied to himself that it had to be a job where he'd help people in need, people who wanted to change, people who were convinced already. A job where he had the power to help them to make that difference, because he still didn't feel as if he had made a difference yet; of course it had to be a job where he could get well paid for doing that. That'd make his perfect job. He sneered. Cunning Arnold asked again that if it were all about dreams and fantasies, _what else he'd ask for to his perfect job, huh? What would be the cherry on the cake?_

Well, he snorted again but indulged nevertheless. It should be located in that high, smart looking building than was located in front of Anderson's; his office would be located in a higher level and… he hummed… _and_ it had to be no boss around. That was it.

. . . . . . . .

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**I don't own Hey Arnold! I don't own No More Nails.  
**

**Thanks for reading and special thanks to PresleyRox, MorTay3, Nep2uune and a Guest - who I suppose is C - for their reviews. I really appeciate them; **** as usual I'll answer them through PM**. I hope you also like this second installment. 

**Reviews are welcome :D**

**July 10th, 2014.**


	3. About Eyes and Princes

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Three**

**About Eyes and Princes **

* * *

. . .

After leaving the shower Arnold was getting ready for his working day. Another working day. It wasn't eight in the morning yet and they already had a visit: Brenda. He could hear her and Claire's voices in the kitchen but didn't care to listen. Surely they were talking about their job of last day at the community center. Well, about Claire's job, because Brenda absence was what kept his girlfriend working so late in first place.

Leaving the bedroom he entered into the kitchen where the girls' chat didn't die because of his presence.

"Do you think it'll work?" he saw Claire biting her lip "I mean… isn't it too…?" she vacillated, looking at the girl in front of her, then at Arnold, who was filling his bowl with cereal. She looked hesitant, but at the same time her eyes shone with excitement. Brenda didn't even bother to answer his morning greeting. It wasn't an isolated occurrence. Brenda almost lived with them. If they weren't late visits then they would be early visits. Every single day.

"Come on Claire! Do you think it kept me busy the whole afternoon for nothing? Everything is ready now."

"It just that… you're sure it'd be appropriate? I mean this soon?"

"Of course it is! I am telling you!" Brenda said with her loud voice again. Arnold exhaled noisily to make her remember he was also there, then he placed the bottle of milk in the middle of the table. He used to keep himself away from their business but hated seeing Brenda pushing Claire this way. "I know you also want this. We've worked hard and deserve something like this. This could be our moment to shine; what takes us to the next step."

"Is not the end what I am questioning, but the _means_…"

"We have the same rights that every other organization; and don't forget I already have the invitation…"

"Organization?" Arnold interfered, laughing half-heartedly "You are not an organization. You're only a couple of girls who work hard to…" Arnold stopped at the sight of Claire. Her dark eyes open to the maximums.

"We are an organization, Arnold." Brenda stated as Claire nodded slowly.

"Since when you are an organization?" he asked cautiously then. To his girlfriend, but the other girl answered.

"Yesterday afternoon…" Brenda emphasized with an ample nod, her blonde bangs moved up and down. He frowned.

"How did you…?" he stopped again. He needed to reformulate the question. "Did you consult Claire before doing it?"

"Of course I did! She totally agreed. Right, Claire?"

"You did?" he inquired Claire. Seeing Brenda hesitation made him realize he wasn't quite wrong with his assumption that it was all Brenda's idea and probably all Brenda's doing.

"I…" Claire stuttered. He turned to Brenda then.

"Do you know you didn't have any right to act upon your…?"

"Arnold…" Claire stopped him to speak with firmness "It's alright. Brenda didn't ask, but if she did I'd say yes. She knows that. I hope you don't have problem with that because I don't, in the least. Are we clear?" she looked at him in the eye.

Arnold inhaled deeply before nodding. Then exhaled; slowly. _Alright. If she was so sure…_

"Alright. If you're so sure…" he stretched his neck and then shrugged again, looking around in search of his stuff. He didn't know why he even cared, after all.

"I am" she stated, still firm. "And I also want you supporting me. I need you with me in this." She added then, holding her breath.

"If that's really what you want I'll support you. You know that." He said with coolness as he exhaled again. Feeling her questioning gaze still on him, he turned to say "What exactly you need me for?"

"I need you coming to the party with us."

"Why?" he protested "You know I that's not my kind of stuff…"

"Because I want you on my side; and because I know that despite _everything_, you also support this. As you said, we are only two girls out there; two lonely girls. We need you."

"Besides, you have this… bohemian air." Brenda intervened. "You look smart. You're honest; people always realize it. People see you and they know you are trustworthy. You'd make our organization to look more… authentic, more honorable."

Arnold frowned. Brenda flattering him? They were probably in dire need of him. But more that her praising what Arnold noted the most was Claire speech, her words. Seemed that she already knew _something_ was wrong to him, but she was being discreet. That meant Brenda did know nothing. His answer was nod, small but concise. He didn't want to press the subject any further. Not now. They'd talk about that later. Claire's brown eyes told him she was in the same tune.

"Alright."

Claire's smile attempted to be recompensing. He didn't know how to feel. He needed to go.

"Told cha! It was easy!" Brenda clicked her tongue and Arnold cursed inwardly. That girl was getting more and more insufferable the more he knew her. "I bet you didn't have a plan for that day, anyway."

Arnold took his time before answer.

"For a moment I thought you really needed me."

"And we need you. Really. But I told Claire she was worrying for nothing. I was sure you'd go"

"And why were you so sure?"

"Because it'd be quite The Ball; at Downtown, I mean, it's Lower Manhattan. Who would lose it?"

"Those who didn't get an invite…?"

"Well, but _WE_ got an invite…" Brenda rummaged inside her voluminous handbag. "And I didn't kill anybody to get it, did I?" finally she took out some small delicate looking paper with her big, kind of masculine hands and put them on the table. Arnold took the milk away, fearful that its wetness could damage the elegant golden and white invitations. "Do you have idea how hard is to get only _ONE_ of this darlings? Well, I got it, but not only one, _but THREE!_"

"And how did you get it?" Arnold asked without too much interest as he placed his bowl in the sink. Brenda turned to see him with such excited look in her face that made him regretting having asked. He turned to see the clock hanging in the kitchen wall.

"That, my friend, is the question!" she started with her strong, enthusiast voice "Remember Jenna? The girl from Soho I told you two about, like two months ago? The one I helped out when the musician she hired didn't came to the party…?"

Arnold shrugged, not caring to remember, but it was only because Brenda didn't wait for his response. She never did. Brenda had quite an interesting life. She was the kind of girl who was always involved in a variety of adventures _and_ misadventures; always involved in questionable, strange, sneaky episodes. Everything happened always to Brenda. She was like this character Kramer, from the TV show Seinfeld.

And she was somewhat Claire's best friend, but she was the kind of best friend who was always bossing her around. On Arnold's point of view, Claire had some other friends who could do a better job as best friend; friends who she could spend time with when it wasn't all about fundraisings and doing voluntary work.

Sometimes he thought Brenda used Claire because she was better looking. Brenda was attractive on her own style, but everything about her was big. She was too tall, too loud and too expressive; her features weren't particularly feminine. But what Brenda lacked in femininity, she more than made up for in the personality department. The girl was a bustling; she was a force of nature; with a thousand of ideas fluttering in her head. She led a group of girls, like Claire, who used to do voluntary work. She pointed them guidelines and objectives. She was always pushing them, making sure they do the job; that they got their goals. For an unknown reason, she seemed had developed a special bond with his girlfriend, who seemed to reciprocate the feeling.

"… and this is the put on practice of that idea." Brenda was still talking to him, seemingly unaware of his spacing out "So, they hope, Arnold, for this Ball, to be a success and become the first of many of its kind. It's the first time that the City summons all the corporations whose main offices are situated in Downtown. You know, like GE, Great Buy, Channell, McMart, Green Insurance Inc.… I mean, sorry, but only –the -_biggest- hugest_ companies, not firms like that shitty place where you worked before…" she jabbered, as if she were talking to an audience "Then there will be also us; the non-profit organizations who provide assistance to the different kind of needs…"

"I get it." He cut her off "Then this will be some kind of draft?

"A.. Huh… _draft_?" she frowned.

"You know, the draft, where teams trade their players…. But here, the organizations, like yourselves, will be selling themselves to the highest bidder?" he ironized "I must admit it. Rich people know how to entertain themselves, huh?"

"Come on, Arnold…"

"That's why you said you were hesitant _about the means, though not the end_, right?" he asked Claire.

"Well," Claire started "It's a great opportunity… what made me vacillate was that I still don't feel like we are an organization, but that's all. Not because I think we don't deserve to receive some help to, for instance, take "Eyes for US" to the whole district. Maybe even to dream and take it eventually to the County… to the State. Any of those companies can help us to carry out that dream. I am willing to work hard for that. If all I need to do is to be there and 'sell' us well, I'll do it." There it was her comeback to his sarcasm. Arnold snorted inwardly "What we need from them is money. And money is what they are willing to give away, if they show up, aren't they?"

Well, that was Claire for you all who didn't know her when she wanted to make her point clear. Arnold still admired her fervor even when he couldn't share it anymore. He should have gone long ago, now it was uncomfortable to be there. Something was definitively wrong with him.

"It's a huge opportunity! Can you see it too, Arnold? We could get the support we need…"

"Alright, alright," Arnold finally accepted. "Just tell me when to not make any plan…"

"Next Thursday,"

"Next Thursday, huh? Alright…" he walked to the bedroom again to pick up his jacket. "It's a date."

"I'll be late tonight… again…" Claire said when he was back in the kitchen and leaned to kiss her goodbye.

"Again?" Arnold complained. That meant another night in blank? No sex? Was that clean punishment now or what?

"We need to find our gowns!" Brenda was who spoke up now, excitedly, wiggling her brows. "We're going to outdo ourselves," then she stood up and did a little turn. Arnold blinked. Brenda acting girlish? She went on to the doorway walking as if she were an exquisite model "We need to look smart… -_beautiful_. All the Princes of the Reign will be there."

"Princes of the Reign?" Arnold snorted loudly "This is hardly a reign!" he mocked her.

Brenda seemed annoyed for being taken so abruptly away from her reverie and looked at him with disgust.

"Well, here in Harlem is hardly a reign!" she pointed to the floor of the kitchen with vehemence. "But downtown is something else! It's the _real_ New York! And there, Arnold dear, are some men who could easily be considered Princes!"

Arnold shook his head, laughing. She should go live to downtown if she was so fond of it.

"You should go to live to Downtown if you're so fond of it." Claire vocalized his thoughts. Arnold smiled to her with lovingness. "Maybe you'd even find your Prince Charming in there."

"Oh, girly! I'd do it if I could!" Brenda puffed "But you already know that's my dream. A bunch of girls have done it before, why couldn't I? Really Claire! I swear it. I swear to you that someday I'm gonna meet my better half in there! No matter what!"

* * *

.

Arnold decided to go then, leaving them to have their time. Of course he bit his tongue before saying something he regretted. Something on the line that maybe all Brenda charity projects and fundraisings activities were only a façade to hide her real interest: to find a wealthy husband. Maybe she should drop it all and put all her effort in the task at hand. That way she'd leave Claire alone and they could be what they were before the she came into the picture, when Claire practiced charity only in her free time. Now it was different. Charity took most of her time. It had become a priority in her life.

As he walked up the street he realized his resolutions from the previous day were somewhat ingenuous… rushed... or maybe just plainly stupid. For starters, they didn't contemplate Claire's side. And Claire's side and priorities wasn't as clear to him as they used to be.

At the beginning of their relationship they used to share everything, they used to talk about the future. If it was right that they didn't make long-term plans, at least they both were always optimistic; shared long, nice talks about their jobs, interests, plans and dreams; enjoyed hobbies and outdoor activities together; confessed to each other like how much they loved kids and dreamed of a future living in the suburbs and having a wonderful, full life. Now their talks were reduced to the quick, hollow conversations they had at breakfast table in the morning and sometimes at dinner.

As Arnold kept moving forward he wondered if he was jealous of the diminished attention he was receiving from his girlfriend. It wasn't the first time the question came to his mind. And he always thought that he wasn't. Jealous, he meant. But to be true, he was getting tired of having Brenda always over. He felt as if they almost didn't have time to themselves anymore. It was true that they still go out to the movies or to have dinner or a couple of times per month, but it wasn't the same. Maybe he was actually jealous… or maybe more than jealous he was… he looked to himself in a window mirror as he waited for the green light… he looked into his own green eyes, those green eyes that weren't as admired nowadays as they were in the past. He stood still… then he inhaled deeply to shake off a sudden stupor as he crossed the street and turned right in the opposite corner.

Maybe more than jealous he was unsatisfied. Or more than unsatisfied he was…

He was _what_? Arnold wondered again. When he was alone in the house he didn't miss Claire too much, he could say. He could be at home to watch TV, going to walks, buying groceries. She used to be the same when it was her.

And when they both were over they used to be on their own business each: cooking, cleaning up, reading, surfing the net, watching TV. Then there were moments when they could be a couple, to walk together, to go out, to make love…. But those moments used to be less and less frequent every time… or it was only his perception?

It was only his perception that their routine was getting boring? Their routine…? Were they becoming boring? Arnold shook his head. What have changed? He was the same, he was sure… and Claire was also the same, of course. She still enjoyed her job as a preschooler teacher; she still cared a lot about kids, and still dedicated time and effort to help the community center. And he…and he were not.

Arnold exhaled. He was not. They were not.

They have changed. They weren't the same. They didn't share the same ideals. They didn't work upon the same precepts anymore. Their relation was becoming boring. Not even sex was what used to be.

Arnold realized he inwardly blamed Brenda for that, because she was over even so often that sometimes by the time she left he wasn't in the mood anymore. But maybe that wasn't the only one reason. Maybe there was something else.

Maybe…

The blond young man exhaled when realized he had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, then blinked when saw the spot where exactly he was. It was 116th street again, right in front of Big Bob's Stores. Arnold breathed deeply as he walked on, leaving the showcase window behind. He shook his head, confused. It was right that he used to take different paths through the streets to get to and from work every day, but it wasn't usual to take the same street twice in a row.

When he reached the corner he turned his head to take a last look to the store. Big Bob Beepers were called Big Bob Stores nowadays. That was Mr. Pataki's legacy, something to remember the big boisterous man all along the country even when he wasn't around anymore. The stores didn't sell beepers and cellphones like in the older days, but electronics components, speakers, batteries, cables, headphones, chips, that kind of electronic stuff. It was an electronic store, not a beepers store anymore; and it wasn't owned by the Patakis now but by a multinational corporation.

* * *

.

It wasn't the only thing from old Hillwood that had changed, but it was what made him remember his old town. He left Hillwood after realizing that there wasn't life for him in there anymore. He wanted to make something of his life, he dreamed of success, and Hillwood was a relatively small town. He dreamed of coming to the Big Apple and to be prosperous. Hillwood was in some ways a town in decadence.

Everything had changed; even the people he grew up with weren't the same anymore; everybody had taken separated ways. Of course they all were different; nobody expected from those kids to be the same twenty years later. As they grew up they developed their own interests and ways. Stinky went back to Arkansas to become a farmer; Sid enjoyed so much Big Gino's gang that was now escalating positions in his world of crime. Harold somewhat ended owning a landscaping company and was specialist in create vertical and roof gardens.

His elementary school crush, Lila, had married long ago the son of his father's boss and was a happy housewife nowadays. Regarding the rest of the girls, Arnold knew almost nothing about them. He hadn't seen Nadine or Sheena since those old summers of the college years. The only one he actually still kept in contact was Phoebe, and it was only because she had married his best friend. After years without talking to her, Arnold was happy to realize she was the still the nice, smart, easy going girl from the past.

And it was because of Phoebe that he knew Rhonda Lloyd moved to New York in her young twenties. Arnold had never met her again. Maybe because she moved to Downtown, as Brenda would do if she could afford it, he mocked, and he lived up north. Phoebe and Rhonda remained close friends. After Middle School, when the then young kids started to take separated ways Rhonda, Phoebe and Helga, each one in their own disappointed way, -either because lack of classism, challenge or love-, said 'Hell No' to Hillwood High, the district high school where most of the gang were bound to attend to, and enrolled in a private high school. They weren't seeing around much after that anymore; just here and there; parties that they couldn't avoid. From then on they moved in a different circle than him and the rest of the gang.

.

After developing to their better selves in that fancy school all through four years, the trio left to only Ivy League colleges. Rhonda went to Princeton as she always shouted it from the rooftops; Phoebe went to Brown and Helga to Columbia.

But fate finds always a way to change people plans. Phoebe was the only one who followed her plans to the letter. She became a doctor and was now a radiologist at the main hospital in Seattle. Rhonda ended up changing her majoring from Design to Communication and was now working her way up, eager to become part of Ann Vinteurs' élite team. And Helga… -Arnold took an intake- … Helga was the one whose plans changed in the most drastic way.

The blonde was twenty and was enjoying at the fullest being one of the best students at Columbia when right during Thanksgiving break of her sophomore year Big Bob suffered a heart attack and passed away. Fortunately Helga was in town when this happened and had the opportunity to say good bye to her father, but life was never the same for her.

Arnold remembered having seen her lost when he went to present his condolences. '_You always so gentile, Football Head,' _was her answer when he told her everything will be eventually alright. She hadn't shed a tear; not in public at least, but Phoebe, who was already dating Gerald, knew better and she told him she was devastated.

Helga found herself all of a sudden in charge of her father company, which comprised six Beepers stores in an area that included Seattle, Hillwood, Tacoma and Oregon. She never went back to school.

As far as Arnold knew, if reluctantly, she struggled for a couple of years to keep the company afloat, freeing it of its debts and keeping it leveled despite the distrust of creditors, bankers and clients. She changed its nature from beepers to electronics; seemed to be finally developing a fondness for his father legacy, and even went too far to open a new store in North Dakota when, unexpectedly, she sold everything. Big Bob Stores went to form part of the Mueller Conglomerate and Helga Pataki disappeared from the face of the Earth.

It was until several years later that she was seen again at Gerald and Phoebe's wedding. Helga came up to be at Phoebe's side as her maid of honor and she did it well accompanied by a tanned, handsome man with extremely white teeth and arrogant stance. When Arnold got the chance to talk to her she told him that he didn't have to worry; that she wasn't lost at all, but she lived in Europe now and worked as a chambermaid in one of the most expensive cruisers that roamed the Mediterranean; and that Lucca, the guy who was blinding him with his sparkling smile, was the captain of the ship. Arnold had never guessed something like that about her, but shrugged it off. She looked healthy and happy, and despite to still be oddly fresh in his mind that he used to be the one and only who would ever hold her heart, he supposed she had eventually moved on and was happy now the same way he was.

But then, when the party was over and the gang saw each other in the following days, they realized Helga had unashamedly lied to everybody. Lila told them she said to her she had spent three years in prison after participating in a robbery at gunpoint; Patty Smith said she was told by Helga that she was librarian in a small, peaceful town in Texas; and Iggy said she was a starving aspirant to actress who spent her days waiting tables at a seedy bar in Los Angeles. Someone else said she practiced extreme biking.

He should know it wouldn't be that easy.

When Arnold went to Phoebe she smiled and mumbled to herself that it was good to see she still had a vivid imagination. For a while the memory of her remained in his head, but then eventually it also was forgotten. Through the course of the years it only once that Gerald mentioned her to him and all what he said was that he shouldn't worry because she was alright.

* * *

Why was he pondering all this right now? Precisely now? Precisely her? Turning down the street of his working office he wondered if the fact of seeing her former store brought these memories to his mind. 116th wasn't one of the streets he used the most, but he'd used it nonetheless, and it never brought memories of her to his mind before. Specific memories of her willowy body; memories of her long soft blonde hair.

Maybe thinking about love was the trigger. About what love was actually and about what he thought love was back then. About the confession of her feelings for him the last day shared at school. Their last class; eighth grade…

He told her he felt honored but he didn't feel the same way. She said she was okay with that; she only wanted him to know it. Then they shared the summer days in company of the rest of the gang. Later, at fall, when school started she didn't show up, nor Rhonda, nor Phoebe. They started a new life in a new school and with new friends. Their absence was evident. The girls missed Rhonda; Gerald missed Phoebe. Nobody seemed to be missing Helga, to say the truth, but maybe she was the most missed. By him, at least. He arrived to the office where some people were in the waiting room already and it wasn't nine o'clock yet. He went to his private and closed the door.

But in reality he didn't realize back then he missed her; he didn't realize for years. He realized now, every now and then. When he thought of love and there was nothing in real life to compare the kind of love her words promised; the kind of love that she promised; the kind of love that the blue of her eyes, bluer that the sky, promised.

. . .

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't own Seinfeld, Kramer or any other TM mentioned here.**

**I own the plot and the OC (all of them).**

**Sorry for the long waiting. It has been a really busy month, work and health problems included. I assure you next chapter will be here next week. It'd be short and it's half done.**

**Thanks for being here. Double thanks to you who make me know their presence by leaving reviews or following/favoring the story; especially to Nep2uune, PresleyRox, MorTay3 and Babyjokerkc48. I appreciate every one of your words. **

**Have a nice weekend. **

**August 1****st****, 2014.**


	4. CV Tips

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter 4**

**CV Tips**

* * *

.

_=Did you get it?=_

Arnold continued trying fonts in the document he was editing. Then he made a pause to click the blue rectangle that was blinking in the corner of his laptop's screen.

=Almost= he wrote and sent.

_=Remember, put in only there the most important stuff. There will be time in the interview to tell more=_

"Uh huh…"

_=And don't go using 8 size font to fit more words, bro.=_

=I am not= he typed and sent

_=Also remember using PDF, no docx=_

"I know…" he mumbled. After thinking it for some seconds he decided to cut off another paragraph. It wasn't that important.

=I think is done= he typed then. "My CV in just one page=

He leaned back in the chair and exhaled.

= I like it. It looks… _modern _=

_=Lemme see=_

"Just a sec" he wrote back, then saved the text and then proceeded to send it through Facebook messenger.

=What do u think?"

Arnold supposed that on the other end Gerald was taking a critic look to the document. Gerald had some experience recruiting people in his work, sellers mainly, and he offered his help to take a look to his resume.

_=It looks good, Arnold=_

=Really?= Arnold smiled satisfied

_=Yep=_

_=I realize you didn't write the time you spent in Bankruptcies=_

=I'm gonna say it only if necessary=

_=Alright = _then he went on as an interviewer

_=The cause of your demission. You need to have an answer ready=_

=I needed a time out to refocus=

_=Why you went to Legal Bureau?=_

=To keep me occupied=

_=What decision did you take? I mean, after your time refocusing?=_

Arnold smiled.

=Whatever they need to hear=

_=That's ma man= _

Arnold smile grew wider.

There was a pause, where Arnold wanted to ask Gerald about his loved ones, but before typing another message arrived.

_=So you're decided to give it another chance to corporative?=_

=Yes, I am.= He wrote with conviction and sent it.

=It really was what I most enjoyed. To tell the truth=

_=Right.=_

_=Have you renounced to=_

=I submitted my resignation last Friday=

_=charity and... voluntary work and all that shit?=_

Arnold read Gerald's real meaning and bit his lip. After thinking for a whole minute he wrote back.

=Let's say I'll leave it aside=

=For a while= he went on

=Or rather, I do not plan to focus on that for now=

=Not my main interest, I mean=

=I know well enough myself to know that I=

=Am never going to forget about it,=

=It's just that I want to feel good again. To be productive=

=Then I'll see=

_=Right=_

_=I know man=_

_=And you don't have to get all serious on me. I love you man, I am your homie=_

_=You know that=_

Arnold breathed deeply again.

=I know=

There was a pause on Gerald side, Arnold took his time to see the document again and print a couple of copies. He knew he should change some skills and experience in regard of the kind of company or the job post he were applying for. He felt excited and didn't know why. Maybe because he knew a change was a recommence; a fresh start; and being deep down the optimistic he still was he knew it was an opportunity; almost like a new life.

_=You're ready for the big party, man?=_

Arnold clicked the blinking cursor again.

=Yep=

_=What are you wearing for the Occasion?=_

=A black suit=

_=A tuxedo, right?=_

Arnold rolled his eyes

=Yes, a tuxedo. All black. Black tuxedo with a black satin stripe running down the side of the trousers, black tie and black formal shoes.=

_=White shirt?=_

=Of course it's a white shirt. Brand new =

Arnold grinned

=I learned from the best=

Arnold remembered Gerald wedding then; he almost lost his cool; which made him remember Phoebe. He was about to ask for her again when another message popped up on the screen.

_=That's right!=_

Gerald made a pause

_=What is your girl wearing, BTW?=_

"Mmmm" Arnold closed his eyes to think

_=A blue dress…=_

=Blue is Phoebe's favorite color=

Gerald revealed. Arnold frowned with curiosity... or confusion

_=Sky blue? Navy blue? … =_

=Royal blue, I think= he wrote

=Phoebe's? … =

=Her favorite's shade I mean?=

_=She loves ALL kind of blue, man=_

=Right= Arnold frowned again. What the hell they were talking about girls favorite colors, he wondered.

_=Is she there now?= Gerald asked again_

=No. She's out. She and Brenda went shopping; shoes I think=

* * *

.

"What do you think of these?" Brenda extended her foot to the front, showing Claire a pink shoe.

"I think they don't go with your green dress, Brenda." She bent down to fix the strip of her own shoe "What do you think?" she stood and walked up to the mirror.

"I think they are perfect" Brenda stated with her powerful voice "A lot better than the nude colored you chose before"

"You think so?"

"Of course I do. You're gonna totally rock with those and your blue dress. You're gonna dazzle that little shrimp that's your boyfriend."

"Don't call him like that" Claire smiled seeing her image in the mirror. She really liked the shoes. She had never had silver shoes. She always thought they were for sophisticated, successful woman and she never felt like that. But this pair was beautiful; the strips shone and it was breathtaking. She knew she looked wonderful, so she decided to buy them no matter what.

"I think Arnold is going to be jealous"

"Arnold is not jealous"

"If he's not yet he's going to be jealous then," Brenda said again as she tried a new pair; purple.

Claire shook her head. As least she didn't ask for the silver ones she chose. Claire sat down and looked at his beautiful shoes one more time before taking them off.

"He's not that kind of guy, Brenda, you know him"

"Well," Brenda puffed as she straightened to walk with the new pair. "You're really pretty," she stated. Claire frowned, turning to see her "What if you meet someone else in the Ball?"

"I don't think…"

"Someone that spots you in the crowd and decides he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, huh?"

"Brenda, I think you're getting carried away with all this stuff." Claire puffed "We're going there only to find a sponsor…"

"But what _if ?_" Brenda insisted.

"I don't know. I find highly improbably…"

"No. Nothing is _highly improbably_."

"Brenda… this is not a Disney movie,"

"I know." Brenda sat down again and took off the purple shoes.

"I think you should go for nude… white…?" Claire changed the subject and bit her lip "… maybe red?"

"Red?" Brenda turned to see her.

"Why not? Redheads always wear green."

"Red…" Brenda stood and walked to the displays again. Claire followed her without forgetting to take the silver shoes with her.

"So…" Brenda started again as she looked over the variety of shoes on display. "I was asking what about if you find a new guy, huh? I mean, would you leave Arnold if you find another man?"

"I am not looking for another man"

"But what if?"

"Brenda!" Claire exhaled, "I don't think I'd pay attention to another man while I am with Arnold"

"_While_?" she took a red shoe and looked at her but Claire shook her head. It wasn't the formal kind they were looking for. "What does that mean?" Brenda went on "I mean, do you mean Arnold is not the one? Or you're just waiting for him to ask the question?"

"No!" she replied immediately.

"No?" Brenda turned to see her with a smirk in her face.

"No." she repeated, but now with calm "What I meant was … that I don't want to force Arnold to take a decision. I'm still not sure. I love Arnold and he's a great guy…"

"… but?" Brenda had stopped looking the displays and was now concentrated on her.

"There's no but!"

"_There's not but?_" Brenda teased her "Then what did you mean?"

"I don't know, Brenda, is that okay?" she said, getting exasperated.

"Okay, okay, don't get your panties in a bunch" the blonde girl grinned openly "I get you." she turned again

"Maybe we should look in another place" Claire said. She was getting tired of Brenda obsessive questioning about hypothetical situations. She walked to the cashier to make her purchase. On the counter she found a stripped coral dyed pair and she showed them to her friend who fell in love immediately. Claire smiled. The look in Brenda's eyes was priceless.

* * *

.

=_I'm telling you, man!=_

Gerald continued trying to show his point. As if he needed convincement

_=It's a blessing. You should be happy she has a friend who goes to do shopping with her=_

=Tell me about it=

Arnold smirked. Even when he didn't find too unbearable to go shopping with Claire it was nice she had someone else to do the job.

=Does Phoebe have a shopping friend?= he asked now. He knew Gerald was watching a basketball game on the TV. That meant he was home alone?

_=Of course she has. And do you know who is it, don't you? _

It wasn't hard for Arnold to guess. Their daughter of course.

=Minerva=

_=Yep. Minerva.=_

=Isn't her too young?=

_=She's old enough, Arnold. You don't know her. She's a Johansson to the bone. She's can be really calm and quiet, and Phoebe can manage to go shopping with her the whole afternoon without problem=_

=Good to know. Where are they, BTW?=

_=Guess…=_

=Shopping?=

_=Yes. Shopping. Impoverishing her father. Yay!=_

* * *

.

"I think they are lovely" the mother of the six month old baby retreated to see the little pink shoe in the foot of her baby. "Yes, lovely" she asked the helper for the left shoe as she happily thought that with this pair and the other, the blue one, she'd cover the needs for the upcoming months. Minerva might need some sandals for the approaching summer too, but then she decided to wait since she was growing up too fast and left most of her clothes almost new. She could wait to next month before deciding.

"Here you are, ma'am" the seller said, offering the couple.

Phoebe took the shoe and put it on her baby foot with difficulty. Her baby girl was very active. To get her calmly seated was almost an impossible task. She tossed and turned and once done she started to stir to the top of her capabilities.

"Minerva, come on!" Phoebe admonished her softly but firmly at the time. She put the shoe in and called the girl to admire her brand new beautiful shoes. "Look. What do you think? They are pretty, huh?"

Phoebe raised her sight to look at her. The girl was turning around and Phoebe expected her to look at her feet, but right then she couldn't help but let out a deep grunt at the discovery of what kept her daughter so busy with the rack that was besides the line of seats. Then, her daughter extended to her a number that thankfully wasn't her size. A strikingly shocking golden and purple pair of what could be appropriately called 'fuck me pumps'.

"Fuck!"

It was all the petite half Japanese, half Norwegian, half Irish, half American young mother could say. What would her best friend say when she knew her daughter's tastes took after Timberly's. Fuck!

* * *

_= I tell you man, ma girl is not trouble, she's just like her dad =_

* * *

.

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't own any other of the TM mentioned here.**

**Thanks for reading and double thanks to my reviewers: AmorFatiAhMi, Nep2uune and Nopejope. I also want to thank you to those who mark this story as follow/ favorite. **

**I don't know you but these Dog Days are getting on me and on most of the people I know. It had been really hard to put this –well, not this but next - chapter together-. Hope next chapter will be here really soon. This chapter –five- will be longer and the rest of the OC will be finally introduced in there. Then the action starts.**

**Hope to see keep you all as readers. Have a nice week.**

**August 17, 2014.**


	5. C-Suite

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Five  
**

**C-Suite**

* * *

.

It was turning out difficult to calculate multitudes. Considering that there were eighty-four organizations invited and taking two or three invitees per organization, they should be around two hundred people present who came from organizations.

How many enterprises were summoned? He didn't dare to guess. One hundred? Two? How many people each? … How many really _huge_ enterprises would be in downtown? Fifty? Two hundreds? Three? A thousand? …

Arnold exhaled. He had no idea. Maybe if he tried small crowds? … small crowds…. Would be easier this way to estimate how many people attended to this Beneficence Ball taking place at the Ellis Island Hall of a renowned hotel?

* * *

.

If someone is thinking he was getting bored they were wrong. It has been so much fun to enter into the piece and wait for almost an hour for the Master of Ceremonies to take the stand and greet the audience. Then he said what was it all about and explained the mechanics of the event. Claire and Brenda were with Jenna meeting the potential sponsors. Arnold waited behind. So, a while ago his entertainment had seen to go behind the curtains and observe the city below. It was a beautiful sight.

But right now he was touching the wall with his back, like a wallflower, taking a sip of his drink and surveying the surroundings with the intention to find a representative small crowd. It didn't take long to find it, the perfect one, about twenty feet away from him. But before start counting down people he took a pause to look at a pretty girl in a black dress going through the hall; she was really pretty, elegant, about his age. Arnold sighed. One thing was for sure. This place was full with beauties. With some of them looking like models, actresses…. Talking about actresses, he thought he had seen a famous actor before, but he was not sure.

Okay, no more procrastinating, he took an intake, time to start counting the representative small crowd. _Un- deux- trois- quatre- cinq- six- sept-… huit… neuf, dix- onze_… four more and they were fifteen. Fifteen persons formed a small crowd. A quick glimpse to the surrounds made him count about a dozen of small crowds to his right. Almost the same amount in the center and… mmm… a bigger bunch to his left. The left side of the Hall seemed the most popular; the loudest, the most sparkling. In any case, that given, one hundred and eighty at his right plus one hundred and eighty at the center, plus… mmm… two hundred and fifty in the left? That meant…

.

"There you are!" Claire arrived to his side and took a place at his right, looking at the center of the hall the same way he did. He took her hand and squeezed it "Are you getting bored?" she asked him.

"No" he smiled "Quite the opposite! I am having so much fun trying to figure how many people is in here…" he spoke aloud to be heard through the noise of the multitude.

"Around six and seven hundred" Claire exclaimed with a laugh.

"Really?" Arnold turned to her "How do you know? Jenna?"

"Nope" she clicked her tongue "I counted," she turned to him then "I guess we have similar ways to entertain ourselves."

"Are you getting bored?" Arnold asked her then.

"Nope. In fact, we've had quite a time" she smiled brightly "We met already two possible sponsors and they said they'll contact us within the week. I hope we get something." She made a pause "There's a lady who is giving a thousand dollars to everybody who asks her, you know?" Claire smiled again "It's not permitted but still... Well, all we had to do was say hi and we already have two grand."

"Congratulations!" Arnold said, leaning over and kissing her. "Come, let's dance"

Claire laughed and tried to resist him saying there were just a few couples dancing, but he ignored her and walked to the dance floor.

"Now is when we can dance," he said, placing his hand in her waist and starting dancing the slow, nice melody. "You're not busy now" She finally sighed and followed his lead "How's everything going, by the way, other than those two grand you already have in the bag?" he asked her.

"Well… we have yet to meet three sponsors. We were assigned to only five prospects, like everyone else. Still, there are some 'favorite' associations who try to impose themselves so we need to be watchful…" She explained "Oh and you know what? Mueller and Three Stars Estates are ours. I think this Jenna girl owed Brenda a big one because Mueller is famous for having a soft spot for kids and schools and giving monthly support if you show them you know what you are doing." She said excitedly "And they said Three Stars' bag is twenty thousands."

"Sounds great" Arnold exclaimed feeling happy for her "What about the other one?"

"It's one of those new technologic firms. They do charity on their own" she wrinkled her lips "so they'd absorb our project. We'd be given credit an all, but it wouldn't be the same."

"I see," Arnold nodded understanding "So what's next?"

"We need to wait to be introduced and then, I don't know, try hard to… capture… their attention… their favor." Arnold noticed her hesitation.

"Everything is gonna be alright. Just look at you! Last week your dream was to get two dozen of glasses for those kids and now you're here. You never dreamed to have an opportunity like this."

"Well…" she exhaled.

"Everything will turn fine, you'll see."

"You really think so?"

"Of course I do."

They continued dancing and when the song ended he asked.

"You still happy we came?"

Claire took a deep, vacillating intake and looked at him to the eye.

"Yes, I do. I feel optimistic. I guess if we don't…" she stopped suddenly, but then she added more effusively "You know? I just saw Al Di Napoli, the actor! He was just there! He even greeted us! Where else I can see Al Di Napoli this close and even say hi to him, huh?" she said bouncing slightly.

"Was it him?" he asked "I thought I saw him, but I was not sure,"

"Yep, it was him! Oh, and Brenda says she also saw Barbra," she shrugged.

"Well, I saw this bloke from The Morning News and a guy that looked like Anton Ego" Arnold laughed.

"Anton Ego?" she asked spiritedly "If cartoon characters also count, then I have to say I saw a Cruella."

"My God!" Arnold replied "Well, if we get nothing tonight at least we always can say we had a good time, meeting the rich and famous, huh?"

"And that we attended to the Ball of the Year." she agreed.

"The Ball of the Year, that's right!" he repeated as he made her swirl again.

* * *

.

They continued dancing for a while, observing and commenting the surroundings. They talked about expectations; real, concrete, expectations. They had already talked about that. They didn't want to be too optimistic to think all their dreams became true, but they wanted to get support to help at least the district schools. That was the point in coming, after all, but still they knew it wouldn't be a piece of cake.

They talked about the invitees. About the diverse kind of people and couples around. There were a lot of men and women who looked important and powerful. There were old and young couples equally. And there were dissimilar couples too: old men accompanied by young women; old ladies accompanied by young men; and couples formed by persons of the same sex. Claire told him that when she commented this to Jenna, the older girl said she didn't judge. She considered love was fickle and everybody has the right to find love their way. Her philosophy? Whatever works.

Finally they also changed impressions about the rest of the organizations present. They looked at them with respect. They valued their existence because these organizations gave help, value to the society. They do a decorous job. That's why they couldn't believe there were some people who looked like real beggars, not by their looks but by their acting. They have this desperate, anxious sight in their eyes that make them look greedy; they looked to the rest of them teams as if they were rivals.

"My God!" Claire exclaimed when she told him that a lady almost pushed her earlier "I mean, what's her problem? Aren't we on the same team? If one of us got a sponsor, the whole community gets benefits!"

"Don't ask me!" Arnold puffed "I am as surprised as you" he turned to her after seeing right then another couple looking at them with disdain "I don't know…" he dropped his voice "I wonder if they are just jealous because I am dancing with the most beautiful girl in the party"

"Ha!" Claire scoffed but smiled with pride; satisfied that the hours spent in her grooming had paid off. She was wearing a strapless blue dress that fell to her ankles. She looked elegant and discreet, and Arnold was proud of her, mainly when you could see around lots of women wearing dresses that he considered non-appropriate for a Fundraising Ball; and he was not talking precisely about people from associations but about affluent invitees. "Do you like it?" she asked pointing her dress.

"You look beautiful tonight" he said kissing her temple.

"Only tonight?"

"You are beautiful. Always. Period."

"But this place is full with beautiful girls. For starters, Brenda also looks beautiful tonight"

"Come on! Who is she trying to fool?" Arnold scoffed "She doesn't even look like her usual self!"

"Hey! She's pretty!"

"Mmmm…" Arnold vacillated "She looks unnatural. Men like natural girls"

"Yeah, Right!" now she let out a loud laugh "Not all men! I just saw a lady who's an eyesore, but the man at her side looked so proud."

Arnold hummed "Money?"

She ignored him and went on.

"Also saw others who resembled a sample book of plastic surgeries. All of them were very well accompanied."

"Like I said. Money"

"Well, who cares? After all, what I was actually telling you that there are a lot of gorgeous girls in here."

"Well…" Arnold cleared his throat, knowing some things couldn't be denied, but also knowing he couldn't say it aloud if he didn't want problems.

"For instance, there's a Jessica Rabbit's clone with dark hair on the other side of the Hall."

"I know. I saw her." Arnold blurted out before he could stop himself.

"You saw her?!" Claire arched a brow

"How couldn't I?" he stuttered "Her dress… _sparkles._"

"Her dress sparkles?!" she looked at him snappy. Arnold rolled his eyes. Women!

"Hey! What did you want me doing? Turning away?"

"What color her dress was?" She asked, persistent. Arnold grumbled. Jealousy? Really?

"I don't know… Blue?" he frowned feigning nonchalance. Luckily he was able to stop himself before blurting out 'Red'.

"Mhmm," Claire turned down half convinced but then smiled and kissed the tip of his nose "I only wanted to know if you only saw her,_ OR_ if you _SAW_ her. And FYI, her dress was red. I was just bugging you, silly!" she shook her head and grinned.

Arnold hid his smirk surprised that sometimes it was so easy.

"Really?" But when he leaned to peck her lips her mood had changed.

"At least it wasn't pink…" she murmured, scathing "You would never forget it".

"Pink…?" He frowned, confused "Why?"

"Why? Really?! Now it results that you're unaware!" she scoffed, but then laughed trying to hide the onset of a fit. "Well, let me point it out for you. I mean all this odd _romance_ you have with pink."

"Romance?" He asked. Claire stopped dancing and walked away. Arnold followed her and once out of the dancing floor he took her arm and asked "What do you mean with 'romance'?"

"Come on Arnold! You love pink! You're always spotting pink everywhere you go… buying pink stuff." She started counting with her fingers "Our curtains and bedspreads are pink. Your office equipment is basically pink. The trashcan is pink…"

Arnold was surprised to seeing her angry so quickly.

"But you bought them all!"

"Come on! Don't start with I bought them all!"

"But you did!"

"Well… if I did, then I did it for you! Because you said you liked them."

"But you…" Arnold stopped himself. "How could I buy pink if I don't like it?"

"Look, I don't care!"

Arnold was about to retort when changed his mind.

"Look, I don't know what are you talking about, but I refuse to pick up a fight right here"

"Right!_ 'You don't know what I am talking about?'_" she repeated scornfully, but despite the sting of her words it was obvious she was also making an effort to get calm.

"Claire…"

"Whatever… Just don't say I didn't warn you when you see it. Pink I mean, it's all over there." She pointed to the left side of the Ballroom.

* * *

.

Arnold was left alone once again. Alright, they have arranged before that he was going to be called when they needed him and it had worked just fine for him so far. He wanted this way, in fact. But having been left alone a cause of an unexpected fight was unfair. Okay, he understood that maybe Claire was too stressed but he wasn't going to pay for it.

Deciding Claire's mood wasn't going to spoil his evening, he took a drink a waiter offered and then walked on, to the left, got mixed, smiled to some girls but mainly looked through the sea people. There were ladies and gentleman everywhere. Girls wearing all spectrum of colors, including pink. What was the big deal with pink, anyway, he wondered. Why he had to admit something that wasn't even his thing, he knew it; he knew himself.

Only God know what kind of bug had bitten Claire so she'd started this suddenly to talk about pink and nonsense; so out of nowhere. He scoffed. Seeing that he had reached the end of the hall he was about to turn around when he saw it. Pink. In the last small crowd. That wasn't that small in fact. Pink. All his rational thoughts abandoned him. He craned his neck to keep seeing the image that was straight ahead.

Against his better judgment, he walked to her. Almost couldn't see her through the people. But he had the impression that he knew her; that he'd seen her before. Tall, blonde… she was giving him her back, talking to the people who surrounded her and they all laughed in an uproar. After the laughs subsided, she went on talking. Long bare arms outstretched as she seemed to be acting. Her dress gave her a fairy-tale-ish air. She was a surreal vision with a skirt that seemed made of feathers. Her hair reached just beyond the shoulders and _that_ smile…

Olga Pataki? Was Olga Pataki the girl in pink?

* * *

.

Arnold shook his head, Claire was right. He made sudden halt, causing somebody to crash against his side. Arnold apologized and turned around, not before turning his eyes to see the girl one more time.

So Claire wasn't that wrong after all. The hot pink dress had called strongly his attention; seemed that his girlfriend knew him better than himself. Arnold took a deep breath. As far as he remembered Olga Pataki was always beauty: tall, blonde, perky, pretty. He was surprised he spotted her so fast in a crowd when it has been years since last time he saw her. She seemed altered, but he was sure as hell it was her.

Suddenly he regretted having turned back. He felt the impulse to go back and look for her. Not only try seeing her again, but look for her, talk to her; ask her about her life; about her family. She used to be an amiable girl; always so good-humored and open to conversation. He hoped she were still the same; that despite the actual company she was still the lovely girl he knew. Arnold wondered about Helga then. Helga used to be quite opposite to her sister. Helga was the antisocial type where Olga was always the embodiment of popularity. Would Olga know what her sister was up to? What's been of her life? He didn't know why but when he thought of her he used to think she was actually working in a ship; spending the nights seeing the moon reflecting on the serene surface of the emerald waters of the sea; a cocktail in her hand, a handsome, tanned man at her side.

Arnold shook his head again. What the hell he was thinking?! It was Olga who he expected to talk tonight. A reminiscence of his past, of his town, period. He puffed. When the night started he never thought his mind would take a trip to the past when he wanted so dearly to think about future, about his new job. He wanted to feel free already. He did feel optimist; had a new objective in his life. He had accepted it wouldn't be a perfect job, but he was up to try and enjoy the opportunity; to make the best of it. He really felt as if he had too much to give, just needed something moderately likeable to give it out happily.

* * *

.

Minutes later Arnold finished the drink deciding he was going to do what he always did. Enjoy the event; help Claire if necessary, and met Olga only if the occasion presented itself. He wouldn't force things. He observed a pretty girl who was also observing him. He indulged with a smile, but turned around when saw the girl smiling back with coquetry. He wasn't here to make a conquest; it wasn't his style; had never been. Consequently he advanced to the other side of the ballroom to put distance in between. The explosion of laugher reached him. It came from Olga's group who seemed to be having the time of their lives together. The rest of the people looked their way too. They were one of the biggest groups he had seen tonight. Looking through the people Arnold realized Olga was the one making the joke again. She was still giving him her back. Arnold had forgotten Olga had been an actress once. In fact, she'd actually married a film producer she met when she acted in off-Broadway plays.

Arnold wondered if the distinguished man at her side was her husband in sight that the man's hand slid to her waist once she ended her act. Arnold frowned. The man was obviously older; his hair was silver, and even when Arnold couldn't make out his face, it was obvious that despite his casual and refined stance he wasn't young. Throwing one last glance to the girl in pink he finally left the spot.

* * *

.

"Jenna said ten minutes, Arnold. We really want you at our side this time"

"No problem," he said "Where's Claire?"

"She's in the ladies room." Brenda answered "Ten minutes, Arnold. I'll be around. Don't miss out this time, please."

"I won't."

Wondering if Claire was still pissed, Arnold walked to hide behind the curtains again. He met Dark-haired Jessica Rabbit half way and gulped. She was a stunning beauty. He held his breath when her cat eyes stopped on him. One single look from her could make you her slave forever. Arnold sighed deeply. Fortunately her greyish eyes were over him only for a second, saving him from such sentence. She kept going without turning back.

Finally leaving the low murmur of the gathering behind and feeling safe from the indiscreet sights, Arnold leaned his forehead in the cold glass and turned down to see the streets again; his mind went back to his expectations for the future. Expectations that were optimistic and pessimistic at the same time. He had already attended to a couple of job inter…

His train of thoughts got lost when he heard the rustle of someone getting close to his secret, desolated spot. He spun on his axis to see through the linen of the drapes two silhouettes making a halt right in front of him. He held his breath when they started what seemed was a discussion.

"'_She's so fun!'_" it was the harsh, mocking voice of a man. Through the dark curtains Arnold could barely see the dark, neat form of a man in a well cut suit. His movements gave out a barely veiled fury "Really? That's all you have to say?"

"I couldn't help but laugh. Excuse me if I'm human!" despite her cool demeanor, Arnold realized the girl was upset. When he looked carefully trying to figure out her form he couldn't help but blink twice. Her dress glowed.

"Human?" he scoffed. Then took an intake, as if forcing himself to keep his voice low "Alright, she could be a fucking stand-up clown for all I care! You already knew it! Now it turns out you'd become her biggest fan!"

"What did you want? That I grumbled and complained in front of them all?"

"What did I want?! You said she was no match for you. You said you knew exactly what to do. And the only thing you could come up was this?" he pointed her form up and down contemptuously. "He's a smart man, for God's sake! He'd never fall for this."

"I… I think otherwise. In my experience, all men…" she started but the bloke cut her off.

"Shut up and listen! I've done my part. You could be happy at home, but you wanted to come. You wanted to come with me. And I complied, but asked you only one condition, remember?" The girl nodded cautiously "All I asked for was your help to take dear Ms. Pataki down to the ground. All you had to do was to outshine her and take all Henry and everybody else's attention over you. And you said…. Please, repeat to me what you said" The guy asked with a hiss. Arnold contained his breath. The low voice of the guy seemed even more dangerous because he wasn't yelling. He wondered what kind of business the girl was involved with. And also wondered what Olga Pataki has to do with this.

"I said I'd do it." She said in a whisper.

"No. You said it was 'a piece of cake'. You said it was a _fucking _piece of cake and _I believed you!"_

"Look, I think…" her voice trembled

"Who the hell cares what you think?!" he cut her off again but the girl went on bravely.

"I think you should calm down because…" He looked at her with blunt disgust, daring her to go on "… because…" she breathed "… because, what is the point? I mean, everyone is going to realize what your…"

He scoffed.

"Everyone is going to realize what? My intentions? My feelings for her?" he snorted again and took her by the chin speaking in soft, low voice "Honey… everybody already knows it. Everybody already knows I want her out of my _fucking_ game." He let go of her "And you, dear, were going to be my ally but you've disappointed me and I have to let you go."

"Dick…"

"Go home"

"I still can try…"

"What part of go home you can't get?" he turned around.

"Al... Alright. I'll wait for you at home"

"At home?" he turned back "No, no, no. Not my home. I've plans tonight and you're not in there."

"What?"

"What you heard. Just go, Eva."

"Are you breaking up with me?" he looked at her again with a scornful expression.

"Breaking up?"

"You know I could be with anyone else tonight? Any man would kill to be with me! I chose you."

"Then you should have chosen better"

She threw herself on him. The tall man took her off of him easily.

"Put yourself together, for God's sake!"

"You're a dick!"

He chuckled.

"That's my name. I thought you already knew it." He brushed his jacket and shook his shoulders. "Get lost." And with that he went off.

* * *

.

"Hey there! You ready?" Jenna reached them and urged them to move "Time to meet the Muellers." And before Arnold knew they were standing before two men who seemed to be familiar with Jenna. She greeted them and thanked their attendance on the name of the City; then introduced Arnold, Brenda and Claire as an organization that helped children and education. Arnold had to admit that there was a lot of professional work behind the girl easygoing and social bearing.

When he turned to the men, Arnold realized one of them was the man who he'd seen accompanied by Olga Pataki. Arnold looked discreetly around for the girl but she wasn't there; it was only a second man who was listening to Jenna. Arnold shook the hand of the younger man first. David McMahon was a man in his forties who was looking at them with kindness; the same approach he'd seen in most of the presents. Then Arnold turned to who was being introduced as Henry Mueller. Arnold shook his hand with firmness and gave him a cordial smile. So finally there was a face to put to the name. This was the powerful Henry Mueller, Chairman and CEO of Mueller enterprises. Mr. Mueller's smile was kind; and once Jenna left he looked at them with politeness and attention.

So it was their turn; finally their opportunity to get a real, strong sponsor. Arnold turned to the girls but never expected what he found. He couldn't believe his eyes. This wasn't happening. Brenda was speechless; looking at the silver haired man in front of her in awe. Henry Mueller casted her a curious glance and turned his attention to Claire. Claire wasn't wordless, but it was obvious that the condition of her friend was affecting her. Arnold decided to help then. He interrupted Claire when she was repeating the same phrase for third time.

"We are conscious of our narrow circumstances. We know our reach is still small…" Arnold made a pause when both men, Mr. Mueller and Mr. McMahon, turned their attention to him. "We know our actions aren't going to make the big change in the world, but we are happy with the lives we're changing. Every single life we touch is important. Every single life counts and we know that to that kid, that girl or teenager is important; their lives changed and that's worth it. We help to make the difference. That's why we chose to help students. They are still young and still have an opportunity."

Arnold turned to see Claire, who seemed had overtaken her nervousness and looked more assertive when she resumed his discourse. Brenda was a lost cause. She still looked with adoration to the men, the sort of prince charming who were in front of them. Arnold realized they both threw curious looks at her every now and then, as if wondering what the hell was wrong with her.

The blond boy helped Claire to speak about their experience when he saw Dark-haired Jessica Rabbit aka Eva getting close, she stopped by Henry's side and took his arm with familiarity. It seemed to Arnold that the girl had decided to please Dick. The man with silver hair looked uncomfortable but said nothing. Henry was paying them attention and asked them a couple of questions. When doing this he touched slightly Arnold's shoulder, which forced Eva to let go. To Arnold it was awkward to admit they have little experience but Claire let clear they had all the determination to get their goals and make it right.

A couple of minutes passed while they ended their discourse, hoping for the best when Mr. McMahon spoke. He was saying he admired their efforts and understood their situation when Arnold attention went astray. He heard voices getting close. By the corner of his eye he saw two girls joining the group. A girl with brown hair and smart eyes who stood in front of him, forcing Eva to move closer. The other person was dressed in pink and stood a little beyond, by Henry's right. Arnold realized he was getting nervous and didn't like it. He didn't want to become another Brenda.

_"Why you took so long?"_

McMahon discourse about that they were not taking a decision in the spot lost importance when he heard Mr. Mueller whisper. It was followed by a sultry giggle and a husky reply. Arnold mouth went dry.

_"So you miss me,"_ a purr followed the answer. Henry replied something Arnold didn't understood and she laughed again. But then she added in a normal but still low voice "Just kidding. Actually I found Ron-Ron in the ladies. Do you know that people from Vogue are taking shots and interviews over there? Gosh, talk about weird! Next thing we'll hear…"

"You mean Vogue as in the Magazine?" Eva asked abruptly, interrupting momentarily David McMahon speech and moving from her spot. Arnold took the opportunity to take a look to the girl in pink but she was being blocked by Eva. Even there, he could say his suppositions were correct; she was Olga Pataki. Arnold didn't know why the mere sight of her made his knees turn into jelly. Right then he noticed Henry's eyes on him and wondered if his eagerness to talk to the girl in pink was that obvious. He quickly turned to David at the time that the man started to talk again. The man in charge of the Social Assistance Department was taking a business card from Claire and was apologizing because he'd run out of his own cards. He'd assured them he'd call within the next week when the blonde girl spoke mocking the man with dark hair.

"I can't believe you ran out of your cards again, Dave. What a shame!" she feigned disappointment, and took a step forward to offer a few blank cards to him. Then she added "Do you need a pen too?"

She and the girl with brown hair interchanged derisive smiles.

"Your famous purple pen? No, I have my own." Dave let out a laugh, admittig he'd just been exposed, then proceeded to write what Arnold supposed was his phone number on it. "But thank you so much for the offering, Helga; you always so thoughtful."

'_Helga?' _Arnold turned so fast that his neck complained. His heart stopped. There she was. Helga Pataki stood in front of him with the very well-known smirk adorning her pink lips. He didn't realize when Mr. McMahon extended to Claire the card, or when they started to thank them or saying goodbyes. He didn't notice Claire's warning glance either. But what he did actually notice was Henry's hand resting on the small of her back, and that Eva wasn't there anymore. He also realized he didn't heard the first time Claire called his name because the loud thumps of his own heart were deafening him but it worked for the whole group to turn to see him.

Arnold blinked, before he realized Dave was shaking his hand and thanking him. Henry Mueller dismissed him with another shake and a nod, saying he hoped the best for their team, while the newcomers acknowledged Brenda and Claire. Arnold contained his breathe when he turned to Helga. _For God's sake, it was Helga! This gorgeous woman in front of him was old Helga Pataki!_ He extended his hand to her when suddenly he was surrounded by warmth and a soft fragrance.

"Arnold!" the hug was strong but quick "I can't believe it's you, Arnold Shortman!" then she turned to Henry and threw him a dazzling smile "We went to school together. - _Oh, God - So long ago!_ - I used to be in love with him when I was a girl!"

* * *

**.**

**Reviews are welcome and they might inspire me to update faster. Special thanks to Nep2uune, a guest and to you all you who read this.**

**I don't own Hey Arnold! I don't own Al Di Napoli, Anton Ego, Cruella, Jessica Rabbit or any other TM. They are here only to color the story. I only own this plot and the OC.**

**See you soon. **

**August 24, 2014.**


	6. Hearsays

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Six**

**Hearsays **

* * *

Hi, before starting - and following PresleyRox's suggestion - I am going to list the OCs of this story. I know they are several, as I said from the beginning, and with the intention to avoid confussions let's put them straight.

There you go: Arnold and Helga of course, are the main characters.

Claire: She's Arnold's girlfriend of the last three years.

Brenda: She's Claire best friend. Arnold doesn't like her too much.

Jenna: She's a Public Relation girl whose job is organizing events for the local goverment and rich people. She's Brenda's friend.

Henry Mueller: Owner of a group of enterprises that have his name and is also Helga's boss.

Dick Mueller: Henry's nephew. He's an important member of his uncle corporation.

Deborah Tilly (Deb): Well, she's a forty years old lady who so far is an attendat to the ball who accompanied Helga and the Muellers. We'll see more from her in due time.

David (Dave)McMahon: He works for Mueller Enterprises. He's the man in charge of the Social Assistance Department. He's NOT Deb's couple. They only went to the Ball together , as friends. In fact, Dave was invited to assist only so both Mr. Muellers didn't have to care about organizations.

Eva: Well, Eva was the girl chosen by Dick to keep him company for the night. (Probably also some nights before) but their thing is already dead. We won't see her again, I hope.

I think that's all so far. I guess there's only two more characters that hasn't been introduced yet. But you'll know about them in due course.

Now we can go on

* * *

**. . .**

"Good morning, sunshine!"

The first awareness of the dawn of a new day was Claire's singsong and the wet contact of her lips. Arnold grumbled to clear his throat, a little uncomfortable because the morning breath, then blinked several times a cause of the light that filtered through the curtains. He felt her moving in the bed until getting her full weight on him.

Arnold finally opened his eyes to see her brown orbs right in front of his. "Did you sleep well?"

She was in a very good mood today. Her eyes sparkled.

"Great…" Arnold cleared his throat again; then gave a quick peck on her lips and she giggled, getting up. He drew out his arm to reach her hand "I slept like a log. What about you?"

"Terrific!" she came back again and leaned over him. "Wow, Tiger! Last night you were awesome!"

"Me?" Memories of last night came to his mind. He pulled her closer "I thought it was you" she giggled again and came to give him a passionate kiss.

"Want some eggs?" she asked when finally let go.

"Dunno. What time is it?"

"Seven… something. You still have time. But hurry up! Don't wanna be late your last day at job, right?" She straightened and left the room. "Bacon, eggs and coffee will be ready in fifteen! Don't make us wait!" she shouted from the kitchen. Arnold threw the blankets aside and hurried to the bathroom.

* * *

. . .

When he got under the water, full recollections of last night filled his mind. He opened his eyes under the shower. God! It was wild! They had made love like animals. He'd blush if his cheeks weren't already red from the hot water. Claire and he had never been this passionate; not even in the early stages of their relationship. Last night they didn't seem to be themselves.

Arnold hummed as he outstretched his muscles under the shower, enjoying the sensation of the water falling on his skin. He exhaled. He never thought the night of the Ball would end like that. In fact, he'd thought that back at home he'd deal with a very angry and jealous Claire given all what happened earlier, and mainly after Helga's blatant declaration. But to his surprise the last minutes they spent with the Muellers became a frenzy turn of events that ended giving it an entirely different outcome.

* * *

. . .

He remembered his head was still a muddle by the surprise to meet Helga so unexpectedly; that she was in front of him laughing openly as she talked to her friends and replied to a mocking commentary about she being once a mushy girl coming from Dave -seemed that annoying each other was an usual conduct between those two- when suddenly an old Dino Spumoni tune started to play and Henry took her away to the dancing floor. Helga had barely time to wave a quick goodbye before following him; that big smile never leaving her lips. Arnold kept his sight on them as they started of sway to the rhythm of the music. He didn't know how to feel. He was still surprised he'd just seen Helga Pataki of all people, and was barely realizing he hadn't had the opportunity to say any more than 'Hi Helga' to her.

"Oh, God! _Really?!"_ Right then was when Claire's excited voice called his attention. "What about next Friday?"

"Next Friday? Are you sure?" Dave had raised his brows, surprised. "Look that I mean real work. We want to see more than mere plans. We need to see reach, costs, human resources involved, how many people you plan to reach in the short range, all on that budget. Take all the time your need to prepare everything." He had ended.

"There's no need." But Claire's thrill was resistant "We have almost everything ready. All we have to do is, let's say, update our info and adapt the numbers to the new budget; then take decisions about what is left in and what is out. I think I'll be ready to next Friday."

"Are you sure?"

Arnold blinked twice. What had just happened? Hadn't just Dave said they won't take a decision in here? What else did he miss?

He realized Brenda was now at his side, watching with the same confusion Claire and Dave's interchange, and, also as same as him, throwing glances to the couple that carefreely showed off their skills on the dancing floor.

Arnold turned back to his girlfriend whose spirit had risen in the last few minutes. Then he took a step ahead and noticed the dark haired girl that had arrived with Helga earlier, she was still there. Now that he got to see her closely he realized she was older than he first thought. She should be in her late thirties, or maybe even reaching her forties. She gave him a smile, and seemed that was about to talk when someone else called her attention and made her turn around.

A tall man who looked like the bad guy stepping out of the middle of a James Bond's movie was approaching them and stopped by her side.

"Where's everybody?" he asked.

Arnold recognized immediately that voice. He observed the tough looking guy standing almost in front of him. Discourteous, he didn't even look their way; all his attention was set on her. The woman shrugged casually and looked around.

"I guess everybody went to take care of their own business," then she turned to see him and added "Henry and Helga are in the dancing floor."

The guy raised his sight and threw a nasty look to the dissimilar couple.

"Hope he doesn't end with a heart attack," he sneered; then took a glance at Arnold and the girls without interest.

"Don't be like that!" his companion moaned. "Let them have a good time. They deserve it; after the week they just had."

"_Hey!"_ he protested "I was also there!"

"Yeah, yeah, you were also there, so what?" she waved her hand "We all know you are not used to relax and enjoy yourself."

"Relax?" He scoffed "How? Making a fool of myself like Uncle Henry?"

The dark haired girl shook her head and exhaled tiredly.

"Dick… Dick…. Not everything that happens in this world has to do with you."

The guy exhaled and took a look to his watch. "Whatever," he then turned around.

"Looking for your girl?" the girl asked, hiding a smile. "She went to the restrooms to check her … huh… _makeup_, I think."

"Is she still around?" he raised his brows.

"Why wouldn't she?" she asked back with interest.

"I thought she had a headache" he shrugged nonchalantly. Arnold frowned.

"Awww!" the girl didn't hide her smile this occasion "Bad luck again?"

Dick drew a crooked smile. "You wish!" he then laughed with freshly improved mood "What about you, Deb?" he looked around and shrugged again "Let's make some fool of ourselves. Dave, can I borrow your girl?"

The girl called Deb seemed surprised, while Dave turned to look up at him.

"As long as I can borrow yours," the man responded.

"She's a free agent," He replied as he led Deb to the dance floor "You might give it a try before someone else beats you."

Dave smirked as he observed them go, and then turned resolutely to Claire to finally set an appointment. Next Friday. Three p.m.

Arnold supposed Claire didn't know what all that was about, but she was overjoyed.

* * *

. . .

Arnold left the shower and put on a tee and some shorts and entered to the delicious smelling kitchen. As promised, coffee, eggs and bacon were waiting for him. He hadn't realized he was hungry, but then again, it wasn't surprise after the night they just had. Claire took a seat at his side and starting to tell him the plans for the day as she also ate from her plate. She had the day off; she had asked it in advance, which turned out to be a wise decision.

"There is something I didn't understand," Arnold interrupted her when she was still merrily speaking "Did Dave actually promise his help?" he paused "Or he only said 'maybe'?"

"Well…" Claire paused "He said they'd help; as a fact. He even let clear that we needed to work hard."

"Alright…" Arnold nodded as he swallowed a mouthful, but then asked again with a frown. "But why?" he left the fork aside and turned to her "Why he changed his mind when he said they wouldn't give an answer right away?"

"I don't know, Arnold" she also left her fork aside "You were there too."

"But everything happened in a blur. I didn't see anything!"

"Of course you didn't see anything. How could you?!" she said with strained voice, but composed herself almost immediately "You were gawking so unashamedly at your ex-girl_friend_ that I'm surprised Henry Mueller didn't punch you in the mouth!"

"That's not…" Arnold refrained himself, then possessing himself in patience and with the intention to stop dead her suspicions he added. "… true. And she was never my girlfriend. We stopped seeing each other when we were fourteen for God's sake!"

"I am kidding, okay?" she told him sternly "I am only telling you this because, as same as her friends, Brenda is not going to let you live this down." Claire smirked. Arnold was about to tell her it wasn't funny when she suddenly exclaimed. "Oh, my God! You said fourteen?" Claire looked at him with incredulity "No kidding! Now I understand why you didn't seem to recognize her!"

Arnold exhaled, happy that she wasn't taking it by the wrong side, and surprised, on the other side, that she had realized he hadn't recognized Helga Pataki sooner.

"No, I…" he paused "well… actually I saw her years ago, at Phoebe and Gerald's wedding, remember? But I talked to her just a few minutes." He explained as he shrugged his shoulders; and then tapped his own nose with his pointed finger "She has a nose job or something. She looks very different."

"Really? She wasn't this pretty back then?"

"No," Arnold shook his head, "She was this awkward, lanky girl, you know? Kinda tomboyish..."

Claire looked ahead, as if thinking. Then asked.

"Do you think they are together?" she vacillated. "I mean she and Henry. He is too old for her. He could be her father."

Arnold shrugged. He had no idea.

"She had no ring at least."

"No?" Claire shook her head. Arnold added then "I don't know but I guess age has nothing to do with this. Just ask Brenda. I am sure she'd date Henry, no buts about it."

"Hey!" Claire scoffed "Not only Brenda. Most girls would date him."

"You too?"

"Well…" her sexy lips pulled a weird smile. "He might be handsome, but is too old for my taste." She took a sip of her coffee "But why in the world I would go out with him when I am with you; the handsomest guy around." She touched his nose with her fork and smiled.

"I don't know…. He's rich?" Arnold grinned, leaning to her.

Claire rolled her eyes and continued eating.

"Do you mean she's with him only because he's rich?" she asked after a while "Or… are you're also supposing that… that she's a… call girl or something?" she hinted with carefulness.

Arnold would like to respond '_Of course she's not'_ right away. But he had to admit he didn't know a thing about Helga nowadays, and even if he'd admit it only under torture, the idea had already reached his mind. Last night he'd witnessed some weird things that had made him see with open eyes the reality about the high-class people who inhabited the city. But before he could think a proper response to her question there was a knock in the door. Claire went to check as Arnold put his plate in the sink and poured himself another cup of coffee.

"Hey!"

Arnold almost choked seeing Brenda entering to the kitchen still wearing her long gown, and her shoes hanging from her hand. She took a seat and left them at foot of the table. She looked awfully tired, but at least her face was clean from all that excessive makeup from the previous night.

"Hey!" Arnold answered her peculiar greeting. "I was about to ask you about last night but I think the night hasn't ended for you, huh?"

"If only you knew!" Brenda let out a tired scoff "I stayed with Jenna and her friends. Do you know what time that people ended their job?" as usual she didn't wait for their guesses. "Three and a half in the morning! Can you believe it? Three and a half in the morning! Poor guys! Such a job they have! Still, thankfully, it seems that despite the initial disorganization, the Ball ended being a success; they expect to repeat it next year."

"Really?" Claire asked.

"That's great to hear... I guess" Arnold let out.

"A lot of commitments were made last night. And you know what? We weren't the only ones who got a sponsor." Brenda stopped to take a sip of the coffee Claire offered to her and then added. "There were several; I think they said there were about ten. But we were the smallest, and the youngest; how about that?!" She made a triumphal sign and went on "Jenna said she couldn't believe it; she was really happy for us. She also said she had the suspicion that Mueller wasn't going to cooperate; that they went only because they couldn't refuse. Because, you must know, rumor has it that Henry Mueller wants to create his own foundation, but it turned out to be only rumors."

"Well, I am happy they were only rumors in the end." Claire stated as she took her own plate to the sink. "And if we want to see that support we need to start to work right away!"

"Come on!" Brenda complained "Let me have some rest, girl! I just left Jenna's!"

"Alright, alright!" Claire laughed; seemed that not even her best friend complaints were going to spoil her mood. "You can crash in the couch while I make some calls, fix some appointments..."

"Sounds great." Brenda mumbled as she turned to see him "Hope you don't mind, Arnold"

"Not at all. _Mi casa es tu casa, amiga_." He said as he stood to go change. "Besides, I'll be out until late." Tonight he was attending to a goodbye party thrown out by his friends.

"Why did you were until now with Jenna, by the way?" Claire asked her friend.

"Oh, girly!" Brenda cried "There were oh-so many things to talk about. There were some _PEOPLE_ last night at the party_, huh?_! It was the most interesting night I've ever had! Really!"

"Seems that you met some Princes Charming, huh?" Arnold teased her after remembering her reaction to Mr. Mueller; and wondering if she had also reacted that way to some other men.

"You're telling me! Some handsome men down there, huh?! But they are nothing compared with all the drama that lies behind them. If you only know what I just found out! Downtown is On Fire, my friends!"

"Really?" Claire took her seat again and looked eagerly to her friend "Gossip?" she raised her brows "Please tell me you have fresh juicy gossip for me?"

"Fresh _bloody_ gossip, I'd say" Brenda let out a nervous, hysterical laugh. Arnold frowned seeing Claire rubbing her hands and also laughing excitedly. He couldn't believe it

"_Girls!_" he scoffed and walked to the bedroom.

"Not so fast, Arnoldini"! Brenda's words stopped him. She made him remember that old name he'd called himself long ago. "I have some info that might be interesting for you"

"For me?" he turned around.

"Yes, for you." She looked pointedly at him, which made Arnold roll his eyes. "It turns out that we got this opportunity thanks to you; but I guess you already know it, right?" she didn't stop looking hard at him the entire time. "Who'd have told?"

"Me? Why?" he asked bluntly in sight that the girl didn't back off despite he was facing her.

"Because of your ex-girlfriend," she replied flatly.

"Girlfriend… right" he exhaled, turning to Claire who had that small '_I told you'_ smile in her lips.

"Or maybe because Henry's…. Do you know that Helga Pataki -_that's her name-_" Brenda informed to Claire "…has become the biggest danger to the stability of Mueller Enterprises?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Claire asked.

"I am talking about the Muellers…"

"Okay… I follow you…" Claire announced.

"Is this is the gossip you were talking about?" Arnold interrupted her "Because if it is, I think I pass."

"You can't just pass, Arnold" Claire stopped him "Dave expects to see us at Friday. He said the three of us. It includes you."

"What?" he asked.

"What?" Brenda turned to her and then to Arnold. "Did Dave ask specifically for Arnold to be there?"

Claire frowned, then nodded. "Why?" She asked Brenda.

"Why indeed?" Brenda was meditative.

"What does this have to do with anything?" Arnold asked. Brenda was about to ask something else to Claire but Arnold insisted. "Why we have to know about the Muellers… and Helga?"

Brenda looked annoyed for the interruption, but then she just shook her head and started to spoke, nonetheless.

"I…" she paused "_Look that you know how to spoil a perfect gossip, Arnold! Well, I don't know how to start anymore…"_ she puffed " let's see…" then she took her time "you both know that Mueller is this familial company, right? Inherited to Henry from his grandfather who founded it like a hundred years ago, a furniture store or something; then to his father and when it was Henry's turn, he took it to the big leagues and started its international expansion…"

"International expansion that had become very aggressive recently …" Arnold supplemented "that's why he's so well-known…"

"You tell me! That is your field of expertise" Brenda snapped. Arnold ignored her.

"So well… _And then_?" Claire's demanding pout made Brenda smile.

"Why so curious?" Brenda chortled; her defiance disappearing. Arnold shook his head with impatience.

"Maybe she's also interested in Henry Mueller," Arnold shrugged, mocking them both "Beware Brenda!"

"As if Henry Mueller would pay attention to any of us," Brenda scoffed "when Helga Pataki has him wrapped around her finger."

"Really? Has she?" Claire asked

"Well, that's what rumor has it. But the truth it is that nobody knows if they're actually dating, or if they are just taking their master-protégée relation to a very particular _and suspicious_ level. What _ALL_ are, in fact, expectant about, is how their new dynamic will affect the succession in Mueller Enterprises. People are already taking sides."

"What do you mean?" Arnold frowned.

"But Dick Mueller is the natural successor, isn't he?" Claire asked.

"Do you know about Dick?" Arnold frowned. Claire shrugged. "How? When?"

"General knowledge, Arnold; Dick is the second on board. He is Henry's right hand; everybody knows it." she was getting exasperated "Besides he was right there. Didn't you see him?"

"Didn't you see him! How could you?!" Brenda asked, misunderstanding his silence. "The hottest man I've ever seen!"

"For God's sake!" Arnold huffed, then turned to Claire expecting support from her part, but when he saw her hesitating he just couldn't believe his eyes "Hot? Him? Oh, God!"

"I am not saying he's hot!" Claire rasped.

"You don't think he's hot?" Brenda queried.

"I thought you thought Henry was hot!" Arnold interrupted her

"Well, Henry is hot, but nothing compared to Dick"

"We are talking about the same Dick, right? The dude who looks like the villain of an action movie" Arnold shook his head "Girls," he started, suddenly realizing this was the gossip they were talking about and which they enjoyed so much. He simply couldn't get it "…it's been a pleasure to be with you"

"Are you going now?" Claire complained.

"It's getting late, I need to get ready."

"You're gonna lose the end of the story." Brenda murmured.

"_Story_ now?" Arnold chuckled "You said it was a mere gossip."

"Story, gossip, tale… where is the difference" the blonde girl asked.

Arnold shrugged. There was a world of difference but he wasn't going to lose his time anymore.

"It's about Helga," Brenda added and Arnold cursed himself when he stopped dead right when he was reaching the knob of the bedroom's door. "Did you know she worked at Mueller?"

"No," Arnold exhaled and turned around, leaning against the door "I didn't have the slightest idea. I haven't seen or heard from her in years." He lied "Does she?"

"Yeah," Brenda nodded "It seems that she's been in there for a while. She started as Mr. Mueller's personal assistant and then she started to escalate positions until four years ago when there was a reengineering in the company. After that she became the superb Mueller's Chief Financial Officer and Henry's left arm."

"I heard it was Dick,"

Brenda smiled

"Dick, my friend, is Mueller's Chief Operating Officer, and he's also Henry's nephew, his heir, and until very recently he had been pointed as his successor…" she spoke calculatedly, enjoying the attention she was receiving "But that's now up in the air, since this new affair between Henry and Helga was known."

"But Dick is family. Shouldn't he be his first choice, the right thing to do?" Claire frowned

"Helga might be his woman." Brenda shrugged.

"Which is the difference in their positions?" Claire asked Arnold

"Dick is in charge of the operation… I guess he's the chief everywhere; in the last corner of every single company of the conglomerate. But Helga is in charge of the finances. She has another kind of power…" Arnold realized so many things then. If this all was true, Helga Pataki had been working her way up in the corporate world, and she did it so well that she was part now of Mueller C-Suite. He exhaled. No doubt now why she didn't say what she did for a living four years ago. She just couldn't say: '_I am the fucking CFO of Mueller Enterprises, ya bunch of losers!_'

"Do you mean she's not under Dick's orders?"

"No," he shook his head "Functions use to change from place to place, but it should mean that she reports only to the CEO and to the Board, not to the COO…. Dick and she are in the same ranking. If something, Dick might need her approval sometimes."

No doubt why he detested her, Arnold thought.

"Really?"

"See why I said there was some drama going on at Mueller headquarters?" Brenda chirped. "I can't wait to see how this soap opera develops."

Arnold entered the bedroom and closed the door. Still there, he could hear their talking.

"_I can't believe it. That someone like Henry could choose a stranger over his own family."_

Claire started, then her friend went on.

"_Yeah, poor Dick!" _Brenda sighed_ "I __could __so __go there and take him in my arms to comfort him." _

Both girls giggled. Arnold shook his head deciding to shut them out, then he opened the closet to start changing. He observed himself in the full-length mirror. What has he been doing while Helga Pataki was reaching the highest positions in one of the most important companies in NYC? Criticizing the uses and ways of the rich and powerful? Complaining about his job? Helping the poor?

"_That Helga Pataki is a bitch!" _

Seemed that Claire and Brenda had already taken positions, like the rest of people. As he adjusted his tie Arnold wondered which side he would take, given the case. Helga or Dick's?

"_Yes, she is... But you know? According to Jenna, some people said she's really good at her job; and that for the sake of the company she's a better option than Dick."_

"_But it's his company; the company of his blood. Who could be a better option than a Mueller?"_

Brenda muttered an answer. Claire went on. So this was the way how women gossiped, and spread the news, then acted as if they were part of that world, Arnold pondered.

"_Still, you said she's only Henry's left hand. But everybody says Dick is his right hand, don't they?"_

"_Yep" Brenda replied "That's what everybody says… but I'm in possession of something that only their closest know, you know? Another cause of worry to poor Dick."_

Arnold stepped out of the room then. He didn't want to interrupt so he waved goodbye to Claire in his way to the main door. He took his car's keys before leaving.

"Really?" Claire nodded her head in response as Brenda walked to the coffee machine. "And what is it?"

"Henry Mueller is left handed."

Arnold closed the door and walked up to the corner where he used to park his Camry. He took the conductor seat and pulled onto the street with an uncertain mood to face the day; his last day at job. The last day of a part of his life...

The last day of the rest of his life.

. . .

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't own Toyota Camry or any other TM. I do own this story and the OC.**

**Thank you all for reading. A thousand thanks to you all who take the time to review: CarlinJ83, Nep2uune, PresleyRox, a Guest, iHwanniex3 and anona. You guys rock! I am sorry I didn't answered your reviews before but I'll do it tonight, I promise.**

**Hope you also enjoy this installment.**

**See you soon.**

**September 5th, 2014.**


	7. Park Avenue

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Seven**

**Park Avenue  
**

* * *

.

Arnold hurried through Midtown's streets. He was delayed and his girlfriend, Claire, was surely furious. The appointment was at three o'clock; three oh five was right now, and there were two more blocks to go. Fortunately it was a cold afternoon so he wouldn't worry about looking suffocated and sweaty by the effort of being in a run for the last ten minutes.

He was late because he had attended to a job interview. There was a vacant post in a big enterprise and it'd be a great opportunity but they stood him up. Arnold had chosen it over another position in an insurance company but he didn't feel like working in an insurance company, so no regretting; but his hopes regarding this one had weakened unfortunatelly. He puffed. At least they weren't lost. The interview had been postponed to next Monday. But for now he was making a dash with his unused curriculum under his arm as he pushed past New Yorkers and tourists alike along the 47th; then exhaled heavily when he finally reached Park Avenue. He turned south and made a small pause to admire the sight.

There it was; his destination. The imposing building straddling Park Avenue. He took air again before going on. So this was the place where Helga Pataki had been 'hidden' all this time; the former New York Central Building; one of the most beautiful constructions in the city. Incredibly, it wasnt far from Anderson Johnson Bailey and Partners where he worked for years. They never crossed paths; not even taking in consideration that Park Avenue was one of his favorite walks because his ample street and florid median strip.

Finally walking the last block Arnold reached the next corner and went across 46th Street, hurrying to the entrance without turning to admire the two arcades that engulfed the traffic; or the sculptures and the famous clock at the top of its base. It was no time to admire old buildings. Not even to see twice the elevator lobby with its warm yellow, Jaspé Oriental marble walls. Arnold ran to the first open elevator and pressed 28.

He took his cellphone to check Claire's last messages.

_Meet us at floor 26_

_._

_Seems that Dave's office is in the FL 28. We're going up_

_._

_Arnold, where are you?!_

_._

The latter had been sent a minute ago. Arnold shoved the device into his pocket and looked at the folder in his hands. What to do with it? Maybe he should have disposed it in one of the many trashcans he saw in his way here but he hadn't dared. It was his curriculum after all. He sighed. Realizing there was nothing he could do right now he concentrated in the fast ascending of the elevator.

The doors opened in floor twenty –eight and he got out because of Claire last message. Nonehteless, two minutes later he was using the staircase to go down the two flights of stairs. It seemed that Mueller Enterprises comprehended several floors but their reception/entrance was in the 26, according to a nice cleaning lady.

He didn't want to check his watch when he finally pushed past the crystal doors. He stood by the receptionist desk, but in sight that there were several people in the line and no one watching, he entered into the offices and went right to the stairs located at the left.

Mueller Enterprises headquarters weren't that different from any other headquarters he'd seen before. People seemingly working. A bunch of cubicles and desks in the center. Private offices along the walls. Their trademark dark red color was present but only in few details here and there. As Arnold climbed the stairs he could see the coffee room and something that seemed a break room at the bottom. A quick look around made him realize certain blonde wasn't there; but then again, if she was one of the bosses it was only logical to guess that her office was in an upper floor.

He soon reached floor 28 and the first thing he saw was that the environment had changed. In here it was darker and the decorations were more sober, more elegant. He walked looking for David McMahon name labeled in the doors but found nothing. Soon he had rounded the entire area and the only thing he got were curious stares and small frowns. He decided to get out of here and go back to the reception for information. He walked down the aisle and then to the stairs again when a door was opened at the bottom. A woman left the room but entered in a contiguous door immediately. He kept going and was about to reach the staircase when someone called for him. A young man, younger than him, who left the same private was walking up to him; Arnold stopped and turned to see his affected gait and his too flexible hands.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with an delicate shook of his head.

"I…" without knowing exactly what to say he pointed his folder.

"Why reception keeps sending you people up here? God!" he asked to nobody and then made a sign to follow him; Arnold obeyed until he stopped in the middle of the hallway and pressed the button of an intern elevator.

"Look,"

"Recruitment is on floor 26! Who told you could go up?" the guy seemed like he was having a bad day. His frown was deep and seemed to be at the verge of despair.

"In fact, I was looking for Da…"

"Did you already talk to Jean? Filled the application?"

"N… no"

"Then why are you here…?" he puffed out, then took Arnold's folder from his hands with authority and started to read. "Are you a lawyer?" he asked after a minute, looking at him up and down again in a assessing way. "We were calling in lawyers two weeks ago. Why you didn't come then?"

"I didn't know."

"Why are you here now?" he asked again. He had stopped reading the paper and looked at him pointedly. "We haven't made a new call."

"I didn't come looking for a job." He extended his hand to take his CV but the _kid_ didn't let go "I came actually looking for David McMahon."

"Why?" he frowned "Do you know him? He asked you to come?"

The elevator doors opened and they went inside once several persons got out. The young boy pressed floor 26. The elevator have only buttons that went from 26 to 30.

"I met him…" Arnold started "And not; he didn't…"

The young man made a veiled sign to silence him, pointing with his eyes at the woman who was leaned against the rear wall of the elevator. He didn't stop watching her attentively the entire time that took for the elevator to close the doors; which in Arnold's opinion was too long. Arnold looked at the woman who wore a business suit and the dark hair in a bun, and was talking to the phone, ostensibly disgruntled. The woman hung up and raised her eyes directly on his companion, obviously aware of his persistent sight.

"What?" she spat surly "Are you going to ask if we won the case, or do you also want to know if I actually danced with Dick?" . Then turned to the buttons and pressed 26 again. "People in here would do their job instead of reading magazines, for God's sake!" she let out a wry laugh.

The kid took a second to recompose himself, and then spoke slowly, displaying correction.

"Actually- I was going to ask you if you are still hiring lawyers" he rocked slightly on his feet.

"Of course I am still hiring lawyers; we need lawyers! I came right from your boss's office! But what is the point in complaining if you, people, chose a long pair of legs instead of experience?" she exhaled forcefully next and then looked at them both briefly. "Why?"

Arnold contained his breath. He had already realized she was the woman he saw at the Ball a week ago; she looked very different in a business suit. He also had realized Mueller wasn't a heavenly workplace either; just like every other place.

And finally, he also had realized he was now a fortuitous candidate…

"I have an applicant" He extended Arnold papers to her. "He says he's Dave friend." Arnold had wanted to take the folder from midair and run away. He hadn't said he was Dave's friend, for starters, and she knew it. He wasn't looking for a job secondly; well, actually he was, but not here! He only came to be at Claire's side! He wasn't even dressed for an interview…. Well, he actually _was_ dressed for an interview. He was wearing a blue business suit. He exhaled.

Maybe this wasn't that bad after all. Maybe he should take it easy. He took air again, and was flattening his tie when the woman raised his sight from the papers to look at him.

"You worked at Anderson for how long?"

"Almost four years," he answered mechanically. Probably this was the moment to let things clear…

"What did you do in there?"

"Well…"

"Predominantly…? What did you did the most?"

"I worked with corporative accounts… the making of the contracts of all kind: buys, merges, cooperation; cessions. Defining and analyzing thoroughly contractual obligations…"

"Do you happen to know about foreign trade regulations?"

"Yes, I do"

"Policies of foreign countries too? Asian? South American?"

"Yes, I do." Arnold nodded. "Europe too."

"What about market share's?"

"I think I am up to date…"

She nodded and looked at the paper sheet again. Arnold racked his brains. If he knew he was going to be interviewed for a post in Mueller what had he added to his CV? Mueller comprehended dozens of companies. And was buying a lot lately. All kind of companies… all sized…. Local and foreign alike…. They were getting their cash flow because…

"I am also up to date about HR Policies, Employment Legislation and about…"

"I see…" she nodded looking at him in the eye. The elevator had opened at floor 26, but none of them got out. No one was waiting out to climb in, so they remained in place. "Alright, see…" she turned to see the top of the sheet "…Arnold…" she made a pause "I just have one last question:" Arnold took an intake knowing what was coming up "Why you left Anderson? Or maybe I should better say: Why they let you go?"

"I left actually," he stated right away but then paused. He knew that it was right now when he'd get an approval or a rejection. He still believed he needed to be honest; just wasn't sure how honest should he be; how much honesty could be bent. "I felt like I needed… a time-out to focus…. I guess I was working through the whole spectrum of commerce that… I just needed to… to adjust the tune_…" _he stopped. The girl was looking at him hard; a light frown in her forehead. "I felt that it was the right time to make a choice; to become a specialist. If I left more time pass, I think my time would have gone; the opportunity wasted."

"What did they said?" she was still looking at him intently.

"There was no time for that," the blond boy let out a dry smile.

She nodded. She had smart eyes. Arnold had already noticed it. He wondered if she had bought his lie… that wasn't a lie per se. In fact, from the adequate perspective it had been the real story; if only he'd already chosen a …

"What about this 'Legal Bureau'? Are you still in there?"

"No, not anymore. There was going to be only a short period of time. They always knew it." He shrugged "It was something to keep me occupied."

"Yeah. Bills don't stop coming, right?" She nodded again, understanding. Then she threw a last quick glance to the page and handed it over to the boy that Arnold had almost forgotten about. "I am just registering…. You are Helga's … little friend, right?" Arnold nodded. The veiled insinuation of her voice made him feel uncomfortable. But at least she hadn't said '_boyfriend_' like Brenda and Claire before; but Arnold noticed the statement was enough to make their companion give out a little jump. "She told you to come?"

"No, I haven't seen her at all." It felt good to say some easy truth.

"Right. She hasn't been around in a while, in fact." She talked to herself; then she frowned "Weren't you bound to see Dave today?"

"Yes, I was." Arnold nodded, feeling he was being too formal, but after all this was turning out to be a job interview.. "In fact, I was in my way to see him when I found…" Arnold turned to the boy.

"Mark…" he introduced himself.

"Why the CV, then?" the woman asked.

"Long story short..." Arnold lips curved in a dry smile "I had an interview earlier but it was cancelled."

"Alright," she got out and slowly walked to the right side of the hallway, where there was another lift. She pressed the only button in there. "When can you start? ... I mean, if you're interested in a post in here. I know it wasn't your plan."

Arnold blinked twice and suppressed any further reaction; her blunt asking stunned him.

"Tomorrow…"

She smiled. The boy at their side snorted.

"Let's say Monday, alright?"

"Alright." Arnold nodded.

"I see you on Monday then. Mark, you know what to do. After you're done send him to Greg, would you?"

"Of course, Mrs. Tilly."

The elevator doors opened and she stepped in. She tilted slightly her head and Arnold saw her going back to her phone before the elevator doors closed.

* * *

.

"So you're Miss Pataki's friend?" the guy asked him once they were alone. Arnold had to admit that he'd be surprised if it wouldn't happen. He was being led to one of the first desks by the left.

He looked around with eyes wide open. He still couldn't believe it. Did he really have a job? At Mueller? The very job Matt and Daphne had been applying weeks ago; the one they wanted to keep quiet and were dying to obtain? And he got it; almost effortless. He was still stunned.

As he had thought hundreds of times before, the real problem with finding a good job was the difficulty to get in contact with the right people; the people who had the power of taking a decision. And he had been lucky. It was completely casual to suddenly find yourself face to face with who seemed to be the right person in here. To have the opportunity to talk to her… to having impressed her with his curriculum and his experience. Coincidence… Or maybe it was only matter of them in dire need of an extra pair of hands.

"Huh? It's alright if you don't wanna talk. Just don't be rude." the mannered voice took him out of his contemplations.

"Excuse me?"

"I was asking you about Helga Pataki. Are you friends with her?" the boy asked as he placed a formulary in front of him.

"I was… long ago, when we were kids," knowing how communicative workplaces used to be he decided to be cautious. He wasn't going to be the new guy who had a story with one of the bosses. It was better to let things clear from the beginning. "We went to elementary school together…" and made a pause to start filling the application "I hadn't seen her in years"

"I can't imagine the kind of kid she'd have been."

"She was okay…" Arnold smiled "Smart… bossy; the queen of the hallways."

Mark laughed casually.

"You seem to be describing her nowadays…. She's always calling people by other names."

Arnold couldn't help but laugh. He shook his head remembering her personal name for him. Football Head. He hadn't been called him Football Head in years.

"Yeah!" he nodded looking at the guy in front of him. "That's the Helga Pataki I remember."

"Seems that she's still the same, then." He paused, starting to go through his papers "I like her, you know? She's nice, funny…. And I am happy that she and Henry are finally together. After all he has been through. He deserves to be happy."

"Are they actually together?" Arnold raised his sight, frowning slightly. A curious expression that he know people used to feel attracted to, and found reliable; an expression he used on his own benefit. A lawyer like him always needed a secret weapon.

The boy shrugged and raised his brows in a classic expression of uncertainty.

"Nobody knows… but they are always together and seem happy. But then again, they were all the time together and also seemed happy before, you know? But now something is altered…." He stopped but then, as if the last thing he wanted was to be misunderstood he added immediately "Though I'm not saying they act as a couple in public, you know? Never say I said something like that because not I or anybody I know had ever seen them acting, you know, all romantic or effusive in public. It's just that it's obvious something has changed." he shrugged "To end with that: the boss seems happy and that's all that matters, isn't it?"

"That's what matters, you're absolutely right." Arnold uttered as he went back to the paper. For some incomprehensible reason his insides cringed once those words left his mouth.

* * *

. . .

When the paperwork was ready, Arnold was sent to Legal Department. He had already been told that the hiring process wasn't this informal and that it'd take more than a day; nevertheless he could come up on Monday for an introductory course and the usual conventions. Then he was sent to see Greg, who seemed to be Deborah Tilly's right hand. Contrary to his experience in this place so far, Greg turned out to be nice. The new hiring seemed fallen from heaven to him. Greg was a man in his forties, looked intelligent and was the first naturally friendly face Arnold had found in Mueller so far. Someone he could call properly a colleague.

* * *

. . .

Of course he hasn't forgotten about Claire. He's sent a message telling her the cause of his delay. Though he never thought that the innocent '_I think I got the job'_ could be utterly misunderstood. Claire almost shouted to him from the open staircase when she saw him in there. Some heads turned to see them but they went mainly ignored, thankfully. Claire and Brenda's jaws went to the floor when he told them why he couldn't leave right now. They were astounded but overjoyed at the same time, and utterly eager to communicate their good news and to hear his. So the duo left The Helmsley Building with a plan in mind: go to pick up dinner, junk food and beers; then go back to their apartment and wait for Arnold's arrival. There was just too much to be shared tonight.

* * *

. . .

"Oh, my God Arnold!" Claire had covered her mouth with her hand; her eyes were the biggest he had ever seen. It was her first reaction to his arrival "I still can't believe you were _hired _by _Mueller_? How in earth this happened? _WHEN_?"

Arnold shrugged and shook his head, making obvious he was as surprised as her. After the initial reaction and effusiveness Brenda was seeing him with a blank expression.

"I still don't know…" he leaned against his seat "I really- really don't have idea. My best guess is that they really need people. Greg told me that they are swamped in work; and it's only getting worst!"

Arnold would like to lie down and think to finally let things sink in; or at least to keep talking about his adventure in the elevator and all his guesses, but the girls had also a bunch of things to tell themselves. It turned out that Dave has been completely serious about his offer and he had provided them with a budget that was going to be revised monthly. To take care of the whole district's needs was their first goal; a dream became true for Claire and Brenda.

But thankfully the conversation kept oscillating between one and the others. They have listened with attention to everything he told; and now it has been a while since they had monopolized the conversation. They were now talking about people he didn't know, about the recent news, or still about the last week Ball given that Vogue had just released a fresh and shiny edition.

"_So good old girl, Ball invitee Deb turned out to be the Manager of the Legal Department at Mueller, huh?"_

Arnold leaned back, a tad lightheaded, and nodded_._ Things were becoming to look blurry.

"_And you said she didn't know who you were when she started interviewing you?"_

He shook his head then. She hasn't recognized him until later; he was certain about that.

"_Do you think Helga asked her to hire you? … Maybe?"_

Helga didn't even know the kind of lawyer he was. Another certainty.

"_Mr. Mueller then?"_

_Brenda interrupted then._

"_Mr. Mueller is not in town right now. Dave told us, remember? He and Dick will be arriving from Singapore tomorrow night." Brenda pointed. _

Arnold would remember the talking next day. Well, parts of it. After the beer was gone Claire went to the kitchen to concoct some 'screwdrivers'.

_"I thought you said margaritas..." Brenda said as she took the glass from Claire. "Talking about margaritas…. I heard Helga is in Brazil, by the way. Getting a tan."_

"A tan?"_ Arnold almost choked. Claire looked at him through narrowed eyes. Brenda let out a nonsensical laugh. _

"_I'd say_ s_he's getting a Brazilian!" _

"_A Brazi…?" he started asking, but when they both cracked loud laughs and made painful faces he turned around. Better don't ask. _

"_It's a waxing, you silly!" Claire laughed at him. Lightheaded came short.  
_

_Brenda hiccupped. _

_"She's over there because she's shop-ping. She's gonna buy a new company. She's the one responsible for Mueller expansion, u-know?"_

"_Aggressive -expansion, remember?" Claire meddled in, giggling. "A-ggre-ssive, Brenda. A-ggre-sive!"_

"_Damn right!" she took a sip again "Aggressssssive expansion then. That's what people say. She's over there to buy a new company and let poor Brazilians without a job. Poor, poor Brazilians! The bitch is over there and they are helpless!"_

"_Go bitch, go away! Let the kids alone!"_

_Arnold leaned back in his chair and forced his eyes to open and his mind to see the scene in front of him; to really take it in. Where Brenda brought all that information from? Why she always seemed to be talking shit about Helga? Was she really that bitch? Did she deserve it? _

_He didn't know. Mark said he liked her; that she was fun.  
_

_It was Friday night and they were having their own party. It was their party; it was okay. They hurt no one. They weren't being noisy; so no neighbor complaining, right? But there was something else._ _ Arnold kind of realized he was being a guest at their private party. Sometimes it was confused. They were a couple and had a close friend. Although sometimes it seemed as if it was a three-party relationship… or that there was a couple and a forever alone friend…. He chose to shut down his mind to avoid wondering who the forever alone friend was. All what he wanted was his bed._

_He left the table without saying good bye and walked to his bedroom. The girls weren't going to miss him after all; they had started talking about oh-so sexy young Mr. Mueller again; their favorite theme of conversation latterly. Henry, Dick and the Bitch. Arnold puffed as he got in the bed and covered with the blankets. He felt too giddy to bother getting under the shower tonight. God! He was so tired!_

* * *

_._

_He had a job_, was one of his last thoughts of the night. He smiled as he turned to his right. _He had a job. At Mueller Enterprises, nothing less!_ It wasn't an ideal job, he knew it, but it was real. At first sight Deb seemed a fair boss; and Greg was okay. Their Legal Department was huge. Arnold counted over twenty desks and feverish activity filled the right side of twenty-ninth floor where they were situated.

As Arnold was falling unconscious he wondered what would be his desk like; his workplace.

_Would it be one at the front or one at the bottom? _

_Amongst the cubicles or in a private? _

_He imagined himself opening one of the dark almost black doors of the private offices in there. And once closing it and turning around he found a girl in there; a girl with blonde hair that reached her mid back. A girl who never stopped smiling. _

"_Why are you here?" he would ask._

"_So you miss me…" was her illogical answer but he wouldn't think. All that he saw was the shining of her lips when she spoke. _

_He walked to her, slowly, fearful she'd disappear. She left the chair she had been standing by and walked to the wooden desk; unhurriedly, never stopping looking at him… never losing her smile. Then she sat down in there, on the corner of the table…_

_As Arnold got close he could hear the rumor of voices, other's people voices; old voices; but he wouldn't listen. He was absorbed in the way her hands smoothed the fabric of her skirt; then started toying with its hem in a seductive way; her lips moved, invitingly. Her new nose, straight and with the tip slightly upturned gave her a softer, cuter expression. God! She was beautiful! When he reached her side she leaned backwards, slowly, until her back touched the solid wood._

_A second later he was all over her. Leaning to kiss the wet pink lips; being embraced by her long legs; surrounded by her dangerous smell…. He kissed her. He took her by her head and kissed her passionately, savouring those soft lips that tasted like candy. But then as fast as it all started she stopped kissing him._

_He retreated to look at her and what he found were her blue eyes, fixed on his, looking at him with dejection. Her long fingers looked pale against the navy blue of his shirt. He turned up again to find her eyes again. A look of hopelessness and a frown were now saddening her features. Then he paid attention to the voices. They were several voices…_

"…_I act like a total loon…"_

"What?"

"… _but I was too shy… too bashful …too fearful of your rejection…" _

"_Sorry - but I don't feel the same way…" _

_He straightened and turned around when he heard his own voice. The room wasn't an elegant office anymore but a poorly lit __old classroom with __worn out furniture and grayish floors. And the girl in front of him was the old gangling Helga; but he found her pretty; she was the most pretty girl he had ever seen; with her big, melancholic eyes, her old nose and her bright lips. Those beautiful lips that were curved in a sad, resigned smile. _

"_I know. I know you don't feel the same way… I just… didn't want to end another year without telling you that I love you… that I've been in love with y…"_

"_Why you took so long?" _

_A different voice rumbled then and Arnold raised his sight to see Henry Mueller standing behind the desk and seeing them both with a devious smirk._

"_So you miss me?" she directed a radiant smile to him and looked gorgeous again; but then turned to Arnold and her smile disappeared. "Sorry Arnold, but I was so young, so stupid… Forget it, please. It's past; it's old. I don't care anymore…"_

"_But I was wrong!" Arnold shouted before he could stop himself. "I am sorry I said I didn't feel the same way…" he got close to her and took her by her shoulders ignoring Henry's reaction "I love you!" he kissed her again and now he could feel her reacting. She responded to his kiss with fervor. "I love you!" he mumbled against her lips._

"You WHAT?"

"I love you."

"Oh Arnold!" Arnold felt somebody's weight on top of him and opened his eyes, and retreated, startled.

Claire's joyful face was in front of his.

"Awww, honey!" she kissed him "You never cease to amaze me! I am so proud of you. And I love you so much too!"

"Claire…" he uttered, half slept, half surprised... and excited, surprisingly excited.

She kissed him again. Arnold didn't hesitate. His body took over. He responded to her kiss with another of the same intensity and made her roll over until he was on top of her.

"Are we alone?"

A glint shone in her eyes

"Brenda's in the couch. But don't worry. She's totally wasted. She would never listen…"

….

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold! - I don't own Vogue. - I own this story and the OC.**

**As I said before, I am going to list the OCs of this story with the intention to avoid confusions again. Some of them are yet to be seen. **

**You don't need to read this if you don't want/need. This list is going to be added to the next chapter too. Thanks to PresleyRox.**

**Let's start:**

**Claire****: She's Arnold's girlfriend of the last three years.**

**Brenda:**** She's Claire best friend. Arnold doesn't like her too much.**

**Jenna:**** She's a Public Relation girl whose job is organizing events for the local government, companies and rich people. She's Brenda's friend.**

**Henry Mueller:**** Owner of a group of enterprises and Helga's boss.**

**Dick Mueller:**** Henry's nephew. He's an important member of his uncle corporation.**

**Deborah Tilly (Deb)****: Well, she's a forty years old lady who so far is an attendant to the ball who accompanied Helga and the Muellers. We'll see more from her in due time.**

**David (Dave)McMahon****: He works for Mueller Enterprises. He's the man in charge of the Social Assistance Department. He's NOT Deb's couple. They only went to the Ball together , as friends. In fact, Dave was invited to assist only so both Mr. Muellers didn't have to care about organizations.**

**Eva:**** she was the girl chosen by Dick to keep him company for the night. (Probably also some nights before) but their thing is already dead. She appeared in chapter 6. We won't see her again, I hope.**

**Mark****: some guy from Human Resources. **

**Greg****: Assistant Manager of Legal Department.**

**Grace****: On old ex-secretary who has become the woman in charge of the office. She knows everyone, sees everything and has been everywhere. (Not seen yet).**

**Daphne and Matt:**** A couple seen in chapter one. Arnold's ex coworkers. **

**I think that's all so far. **

**Thanks to you all who read this. Very muchos thank you to you all who take the time to let me know what you think. **

**Thanks to Nep2uune , Jose Ramiro, Presley Rox and CarlinJ83. Carlin, I owe you an apology because I told you it was going to take two days tops and it ended being five. Sorry. My only excuse is that I've been really busy. I appreciate your attention. **

**You'll see Helga really soon. I am still not sure about next chapter lenght; but it is possible that we'll finally get to see and talk to her in there.**

**See you soon**

**September 26****th****, 2014.**


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